Evening had come, and Ares was still at the fort. He was still overwhelmed by the fact that so many people had died scouting for him. A thousand… a thousand warriors, all gone, just like that. He hadn't even known that these warriors had gone out, not that he blamed Rori or anything for such a thing. He wasn't mad that he lost warriors per say, but rather that so many people had died for Rivea.
The warriors were resting at the fort for the moment. Ares had sent them some supplies and food, as well as making sure the soldiers understood that the scouts were to be treated well, though Emerli was dealing with that task, but for the scouts to also be housed well too. They needed to sleep properly in order to heal their wounds, and Ares wouldn't suffer the shame of treating such honourable fellows poorly.
