BRRR-BRRR-BRRR-BRRR!
Five days into their journey, the party, now crossing the crest of a hill, observed a large group of people heading in their direction on horseback.
A few hours before, a scout had made contact, and hearing what group the scout was affiliated with, Ayfia deemed it okay to make contact.
Taking note of the group's banner. Ayfia and the others' tensions eased as this was the group the scout was affiliated with.
"NEIGH-NEIGH-FRR-FRR!"
Bringing their mounts to a stop, both parties stood a respectable distance from one another.
"Madam Ayfia, what a pleasant surprise," Spoke a well-aged man with tanned olive skin and a wiry but developed frame.
"Pleasant indeed, Chief Francht." Replied Ayfia. "Mid-migration?"
"Indeed," chuckled Chief Francht. "Exploring a few dungeons and ruins delayed us a bit, but they were worthwhile."
"Good fortune is always welcome," smiled Ayfia as her eyes shifted to beside Chief Francht. "Oh my, is that little Anatol by your side?"
"I'm not little anymore, Aunt Ayfia. I am already 15," pouted a well-built, brown-haired, olive-skinned, and hazel-eyed youth.
"Haishh," wistfully sighed Ayfia. "They turn 15 and no longer want to be adorable anymore."
"Haaa, tell me about it," laughed Chief Francht. "Always on and on about how having his hair ruffled is unbefitting of a young man."
"Pains of being a parent," sighed Ayfia as she cast a side-long glance at Cisse, who tactically found the seemingly endless green of sudden interest. And to Arthur, who also suddenly found Aegon's darkening white fur of much interest.
Nevertheless, exchanging pleasantries for a bit longer and discussing few interesting events that occurred on the continent. Chief Francht's tone suddenly got more serious.
"I should inform you, Ayfia, on my way south, rumors have been going around that some tribes have been accumulating more arms than ever, with some even hiring mercenaries."
Hearing Chief Francht's words, Ayfia paused for a few moments as a series of thoughts flashed through her mind. However, in the end, she flashed a polite smile. "Thank you for the information Chief Francht."
"Don't mention it, Madam Ayfia, considering how indebted to Dinga I am, this is the least I could do. Also, if it will help put your mind at ease, my tribe and I will do our best to keep an eye on the tribes and exercise some pressure if need be."
"My thanks again, Chief Francht." Replied Ayfia.
"Bah, what with this thanking nonsense Madam Ayfia. What's thanks between friends."
Releasing a light chuckle, Ayfia replied," I suppose."
"Alright then, I won't take up any more of your time," began Chief Francht as he boomed." Make a Path!"
Immediately the mass of people behind Francht made a path.
"Till we meet again, Madam Ayfia."
"Till we meet again, Chief Francht."
…
A while after Ayfia and co left, Anatol, riding alongside his father, turned to him and asked," considering the current predicament of the Asante Tribe, wouldn't it be in our best interest to take advantage."
"Listen, son, a lesson I learned a long time ago: return a kind deed with an evil one, and you will soon find yourself in a situation of your good deed being returned with an evil one. "
Hearing this, Anatol nodded in understanding. "Hmm, if you say so, father."
…
Traveling after another while, Ayfia abruptly stopped and handed everyone a bandana.
It should be known that within the Realm, anything of value should be guarded, beauty included. Drawing any attention in the Realm often leads to trouble. Like a man knowingly avoiding walking through a sketchy alleyway, it's always better to prevent than to try to cure. But, of course, if it's within one's capacity, caution be damned – but still, why bother with the trouble?
Nevertheless…
As the group continued their journey, Arthur continuously ruminated over the earlier encounter with the Francht Tribe. From an objective standpoint, with the current predicament of the Asante Tribe, it would be in most parties interest to take advantage. However, not only had Chief Francht informed them about a potential trouble, he even offered his assistance. Thinking through this for another while, in the end, there was one element Arthur couldn't truly grasp.
Turning to Cisse, Arthur asked," what's father like?"