Vol shrugged.
"Let me guess – you're excited? Or perhaps, you've merely settled in? Both?" Nolan mused, toying with the sword at his hip. "Even cast-offs like us need some time to adjust to a new environment, so that is understandable, though I would label your excitement as a sort of madness. My people seem to think of me as mad – but I'm not mad enough to look towards battle with such joyful eyes."
"Then why do it?"
"For the reward, of course," Nolan said. "Maybe there we find the difference between you and I. You fight because you love to fight, I fight because I'd love a better fight. Mm?"
Vol shook his head. "You've lost me again."
"Ah, but in time, I'm sure you'll understand," Nolan said. "Why don't you go and see to your Leader there? Half the men have already gathered, and he still hasn't stirred. No one dares to approach him, it seems."
"And you think it'll go better for me?" Vol asked doubtfully. "I'm no good with words."
