Nah soared gracefully above the Shepherds' encampment, high enough so the beating of her wings wouldn't buffet her comrades. She told Chrom she was flying to watch the surrounding terrain for Risen, bandits, or other things, but it was actually for her own pleasure. Recently, she had been grounded due to the Shepherds' planning their next move and discussing the recent increase in Risen attacks, and being grounded for too long drove her crazy.
With a grin, she pulled in the tips of her wings and spiraled skyward, gently breathing blue fire. The crystalline fire sparkled in the sun as it swirled around her body.
This is bliss... She thought, the sun warming her crimson scales.
Gangrel sighed, laying on his cot. His crown lay on a pillow on the ground beside him. Silently, he picked it up, running his fingers over it.
"The last remnant of a damned king..." He said softly, looking at his warped reflection. "A shred of what I used to be."
Still, it was better that Chrom had ended his reign of tyranny. If he had been allowed to continue it, Plegia would likely be in a much worse state than it was now. While he was a sadistic, cruel man, Gangrel did in fact care for Plegia. It was home to him. The warm sands had always comforted him in times of unrest.
Of course, Ylisse was nice, too. It didn't have the quaint charm of Plegia, but it was a nice place.
"I suppose I should stop laying about in my tent and go do something. Perhaps Robin has a chore for this old man to do." Gangrel said, standing and brushing himself off. He placed the crown on his head with an expert hand and walked outside, squinting at the sun.