Breaking Point [O]

He grinned, genuine, when the man's voice came out stable, reasonable. He judged it safe to approach now and walked until he stood a yard in front of him, no wariness showing. He didn't know what to say, huh? Kierser could think of a couple things, including a genuine, on his hands-and-knees apology, and reconsidered. Demands tended to add a tenseness to relationships that he felt would be detrimental here. Kierser factored his chances of getting back home to be greater when he was accompanied by the man and reduced by a fair margin if he were to try it alone.

"Fortunately for you, my memory is crystal clear," he said, rubbing his temple, reminded of a growing headache. Gods, when was the last time he'd actually slept?"Help me home and I'll secure you safe passage to Hryst however you'd like."

He looked down at his chest, wondering how long it'd take before he had enough energy to patch up all the damage. He'd have to be careful not aggravate it; with him retaining the firm grip on the pain, his body would try to carry on as it normally did. So it was with a little stiffness that he offered out his hand to shake, not aware of the blood on his palm, the red crescents under his nails.

"Allen Kierser, by the way, of Aquavia. I understand you're from Hryst," and he'd bet that the man was a knight - where other than the Academy would he get the training to use a spear, "do you have a name I can call you?"

"Oh," he added sheepishly after a second, "Do you happen to have any bandages? Cloths, even? I'd like be able to cover this up." The heat and arid environment would dissuade certain bacteria and he doubted he'd be infected with a pathogen he couldn't eliminate, but he had a low tolerance in regards to seeing what lay under his skin exposed. In addition, it'd be less suspicious for him to heal it, if he managed, if it was done out of sight.

Rhys. A memoryless, possible knight from his second-to-last favorite country (this desert was the first now, a place he felt it had tried very hard to earn), with a grip degrees cooler than his own. Kierser accepted the cloth. He raised his shirt to tie it around the freshest cut, knotting it securely against his ribs, and covered it again. Maybe when he returned home he'd look up Rhys on the database, see if there was any record of him in Aquavia's systems. It was always possible, if he used to be influential. If not, well, then it'd be a waste of time.

"Unless you're confidant about a path out of here, I suggest we'd start walking that way," he said, gesturing. For all that he'd been semi-conscious for the trip inward, he remembered the angle of the sun when they had first began to drive on the sand. Reconciling that with his knowledge of the star's position in Aquavia and the maps he vaguely recalled from his youth, he probably could navigate his way. If that was his only issue, he'd never have approached Rhys initially (he was underestimating his impulsiveness, he'd have behaved the same in almost every other circumstance). No, he needed a traveling companion to ensure that he wouldn't keel over at at some point due to his own carelessness. In addition, traders occasionally passed around the borders here, which inevitably drew in bandits. Kierser could run the odds as well as any graduate and they didn't please him."

"I understand," he murmured, throwing the hood of the appropriated cloak over his hair. The heat he could barely stand, but he'd make a cursory effort at protecting his body. At least he was accustomed to warmer weather; Aquavia seldom neared brisk. Rhys was a citizen of Hryst - had he been out of the Northern country long enough to acclimate, Kierser wondered? He began to walk, bracing himself for a uncomfortable journey. When he spoke longer, Rhys sounded younger than he'd first thought. Definitely his junior; by how much, it didn't matter. Age, he had discovered, was generally a poor measure of worth, so it was certainly something he didn't care about knowing.

"I don't want to estimate." He rubbed his eyes, trying to get grit out from under the lids. "I can say it took around an hour and...a half hour more perhaps, to get from border to here, but that was in a vehicle."

Granted, it hadn't been able to move particularly fast in the sand; faster, however, than the slow clip they were making. Kierser nodded to Rhy's suggestion. How strange was it that he was missing water, for gods' sake. Even in Baem, it was impossible to escape it - in Shinsoo, he'd harbored the thought the sky was a deep, shifting aquamarine for the duration of his childhood.

"Yes, sure." Calling the borders a complete wasteland was a misnomer, Kierser knew. There were some plants, possibly a few animals, indicative of water. All they had to do was be wary of trekking further into the abandoned land or any morally dubious groups lingering around a water source.

"It's a..." he pinched the bridge of his nose and then dropped his hand back down. "fast-moving cart. Not used much even in Aquavia." The streets made it impractical and they tended to contaminate the air under the dome. Kierser preferred walking over riding, though to be honest he'd pay a small fortune for one right now. The wounds on his torso were middling. It was that he wasn't an adventurer or knight or even a soldier; he was fully adapted to live in the confines of the well equipped city, with its disparate people and curious factions. All to say: continually moving was exhausting him. It made him amenable, susceptible to the idea of going toward the first group they saw.

"A camp? Do you see any details?" Kierser's long distance vision was poor; he'd be trusting Rhys to provide an accurate account until they got closer to the possible settlement. "When we're within their sight, keep that spear as innocent looking as possible. They're probably..." He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the superficial naivety. "I don't think we are going to find friends and I'd enjoy at least having surprise on our side."

The dagger he could easily grab, if Rhys was otherwise occupied. His plan was to have Rhys protect him - he was hurt, after all and not competent in body or mind. Kierser considered that they might be indeed by amicable, traders or explorers; best to be prepared for the worst circumstance. So what if they were, anyway? He'd had enough dealings with normal people to be aware that they had the same potential for danger.