Masque sleeps - light and in small bouts, still on guard.

Zveran wakes first, but is slow to actually get up, instead watching Masque out of the corner of his eye. 

They seem alert, waiting on Zveran.

“Ugh. I guess I have to get up then. Awful.” Zveran peels himself from the wall and very slowly gets up.

"You can rest more if you wish."

"No, no, I shouldn't. Or rather, I couldn't. Weight of all Spira on my back and all other such nonsense."

Zveran checks his pack, pulls out some jerky for them both for breakfast, then swings the bag back on. "Here."

They accept it with no argument this time, stretching as they stand.

Zveran eats and watches, chiding himself for not doing the same. He's not so young that his knees won't crack once they get moving.

They turn away to eat again, before checking their weapons.

Zveran does the same, noting one of his knives is due for a sharpen. He'll take care of that should they get to the Moonflow tonight.

"Ready to keep going?"

They nod. "Whenever you are."

"Then let's be off."

He leads the way back onto the Highroad.

They follow him. Quiet and sure-footed.

Zveran is happy to travel in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

Masque makes no attempt to draw him out of his thoughts, but keeps a weather eye out for any dangers.

The main thing he lingers on is how Bambi would react to all of this. He misses her, deeply, and wishes she was here to guide him. Once upon a time, before he was a rebel summoner, he had stars in his eyes about how he would end Sin for good as Bambi's guardian. He wonders where that went. 

The thoughts don't make him less aware, he has years of experience keeping himself safe. The though occurs that maybe Masque was doing the same thing.

Perhaps they are, perhaps they aren't, the mask makes it very hard to tell one way or another.

Zveran is content to keep silent along the path, and lets his mind keep wandering.

Well then, they will be quiet until something makes them be otherwise.

That something, many hours later, is the Moonflow.

"I've been here a few times, but it never stops to amaze me."

Masque looks out, arms folded over their chest. "It is incredible."

"The view at night is even better. Fancy staying until then?"

They shrug. "This is your Pilgrimage, not mine."

"Then we will cross in the morning! The pyreflies make the river look like the night sky."

Zveran sits close to the water's edge.

Masque finds a nearby tree to lean against.