Vasil looks at his friend, more closely than before. Taft looks hurt, cold and tired, just like Vasil feels. On closer inspection though, he looks
cold, tired, older.
Vasil was never a leader. A quiet member of an entourage, independent and self reliant. He has served under leaders though, good, bad, mediocre. His years of military service come to mind now as he rises to his feet, touching the campfire with his mind, and having it flare to life with his movement - a move he once saw a middling officer use to assert his dominance over an unruly captain. Vasil intends to use this same technique to boost morale, rather than crush it.
He channels what he hopes were the good leaders of his past, speaking as though to Shadow, while intending his words for the group.
"You speak words of wisdom, Wolf. Let us talk more on this plan of yours. Let us first feed and shelter so we may be at our best. A conflict should not be begun from a position of weakness."
Vasil continues, as though agreement was implicit. Inside, his stomach turns. Only some of that is hunger.
"Shadow, you will help us hunt, either taking game yourself if you can manage it, or driving the game toward traps we prepare under Taft's skilled hand.
Eirikr, Ragna, you will collect the resources to make these traps, while Shadow scouts the area. Taft, show them what they need to collect, while you teach me how to help you create these traps.
On your feet. The winter will not wait for us to catch our breath any faster."OOC:
Inspire the group to action.
