It hadn't taken 'em long, figured Brulk, all things considered. Half-teeth and Gremk had the dubious honour of carrying Kust's remains back from Ost Haer to their carriage. Fen had ended up taking over from Half-teeth, the old warrior grumbling incessantly about some old wound in his back causing his aggravation. Fen did it with his usual demenour, grumbling and cursing under his breath with every second step. Brulk rubbed his the notch of skin on his right ear lobe, looking out over his crew.
"What you thinking, chief?" came a squeeking voice from behind, Mulk moved up beside him. The man's youthful face looked almost adolescent, and yet carried a grim expression Brulk knew to well. "S'not right, all this. Folk should remain in the dirt." Brulk couldn't disagree, but Dunlang had tasked him with this. Sometimes you've got to just knuckle down and do the shit jobs, Brulk reckoned. "Can't go picking your task, Mulk. You know that."
Brulk had known Mulk long enough to know he wasn't satisfied with that answer, Brulk couldnt' rightly admit to being satisfied himself. "Stand by yer' chief and all that, eh?"
"That's what we've lived by all this time, right lads?" Khelem Dur was heading over, Javellin clenched in a dirty fist. His efforts gained nothing more than a few grunts from the crew, but it was enough. "Mulk, give Riflin a hand on watch." Brulk looked over at Mulk, who for a moment didn't look like moving. "Right y'are." He grunted in his girlish tone, slumping away with his thumbs tucked between his knife belt.
"Lad's aint happy." stated Khelem, looking over the carriage. They'd all been reunited with an old friend, but they'd hardly be celebrating over the circumstance. Least they aint joining him, reckoned Brulk.
"Those are the times." Brulk felt himself mutter. "Yer' having words with the Chief when we get back?" Brulk felt himself nod. " You questioning ole' Dunlang, eh? Never thought I'd see the day."
"Those are the times."
