“I’m used to being on the road with friends,” Tav admits quietly.

He feels he has neither here and the desire to at least feel the touch of nature grows the longer people whisper and call him mad. Leaning back in his chair, he does what Bastien would want him to do: consider his company before speaking next. Would Lazar run off to tell someone his is plan if he spilled it now?

“I suppose itchy feet is a way to put it,” Tav nods.