With just how heavy the rain was, the mud squelched and suctioned his feet into the ground, but Henry didn't care. He skipped alongside the bloated riverside and spun around. Strands of white hair glued to his forehead, and he flicked them away with the points of his nails.

Lifting a dripping wet arm, he waved and smiled. "Come on, Gramps! Come on!" he shouted. "Slowpoke! Come on!"

Far behind him lagged a taller and older man. He looked up at Henry and grimaced, and the rain pooled in the wrinkles of his brow. "Where you get silly nickname for Gregor?" His guttural accent meshed with the river's sloshes, low and heavy. "Gregor is no 'gramps'. Did little dragon girl give you idea?"

Henry laughed and tiptoed from rock to rock at the river's side. He couldn't keep still. "Ha! It's just obvious, that's all, and nicknames are fun!" He twisted his neck around and glanced down the bank, then back to Gregor. "Based on what Chrom told us, you think we're almost at the edge of that parameter thingy? I don't do numbers." He paused, and his smile widened. "Ooh… we could be lost."

"Oh, don't you dare give Gregor thought of that, being lost with strange, bloodthirsty sociopath." Breathless, Gregor caught up to Henry's side and crossed his arms to draw his drenched cloak more tightly around himself. "Oof, is way too wet, this weather."

"Naw, how is that not a good thing?" Henry asked. "Imagine, being left to our devices in a whole bunch of muck like this. No food, but plenty of water. I'd probably end up eating you." He nodded and smacked his lips. "Yup, I most certainly would."

"Chatting like that make Gregor kill you first," the man laughed and slapped Henry on the back.

Henry laughed too, though his laughter was shriller and more biting than good-humored. His slanted eyes narrowed as he clutched his tome and gave a toothy grin. "I'd paralyze your sword arm, Gramps, and then make you die a slow, agonizing death." He shivered as he talked, though whether it was by the cold rain or his own sick pleasure was hard to say.

Gregor rolled back his broad shoulders and started walking. "Eh, long as it be big, flashy, heroic death." He raised his hand and ran it through his short red hair. "As for camp parameter, we turn soon. We go one mile more."

Sighing, Henry scrambled behind. He followed so closely to the mercenary that their sides brushed together more than once. "You think I would just hex you a peacefully lame 'die in your sleep' kinda death? Nuh-uh, Gramps. Not my style. I'd give you more of a… an implosion." There was that shivering again. His brow furrowed. "Mm, and it would splatter everyone…"

"Please keep Gregor out of creepy fetishes."

"Oh, alright. Have it your way." Even if he was bogged down by rain, Henry seemed to wilt, but his smile never even flinched. "I'm just trying to make some exciting conversation here."

In a way, Gregor couldn't fault him for that. They had both been out for the better part of three hours, checking the surrounding area for any straying Risen or spies. Considering that they had been soaked to the bone, some conversation had to come up sooner or later.

He was silent for a moment, simply keeping his eyes on the path. The clouded light had been ebbing off for some time now, though it would be a few more hours till nightfall. Until then, they just had to grin and bear it.

"Henry," he said, "why you so happily betray Plegian army?" It might have been a random question, but it was one that Gregor, and many of the others had always wondered about. Henry seemed like a fiercely loyal type, but to so readily turn his back on his own country seemed sketchy at best. Tharja had done the same. Maybe it was just a dark mage thing.

Henry hummed and tucked his tome away. His smile softened. "Welp, I guess I joined cause' you guys were more interesting. I mean, war is pretty cool, but being on the big, scary side with the upper hand kinda takes the fun out of it."

"You think war is just big game, then?" Gregor asked, raising an eyebrow. "How you feel about slaughtering own people?"

"People are people, and all people are soft and fleshy meat sacks. Nothing more and nothing less." Henry shrugged. "Just cause' I was in their army at one point doesn't mean I care. Heck, I don't even know most of them, and I'm not sentimental towards humans as a rule."

Gregor nodded. "You right, in dark way," he said, "is not like Gregor have any reason for being here either, just for paycheck at war's end."

Grinning, Henry reached up to tap a frail hand against Gregor's back. "There, see? We're more alike than you think, isn't that neat? I love similarities!"

The man sighed. "That isn't most comforting."

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Gregor spotted an unusually thick web of bushes and densely packed trees some yards ahead. He stopped. With the thick rain, it was hard to hear any unnatural rustling or movements.

Henry halted at the man's side and carefully slid out his tome. "You think we might get ambushed?" he asked.

For once, Gregor ignored the eager tone in Henry's voice. He unsheathed his sword and held it upwards, two-handed. "Perhaps, but maybe not, but we be cautious anyway," he said.

"Right-o, boss!" Henry opened his tome and hunched over the pages to try and shield them from the rain. "I'm right behind you."

They only managed to take one step before an arrow whizzed out from the thicket and pierced Henry's shoulder, burying itself just above the artery.

"Yewoch!" Henry dropped his tome and the book splashed against the mud. He fell back, his knees buckled, and he slumped to the ground. He looked at the blossom of blood that was soaking his shirt and felt a rush of excitement. "Oh man, d-didn't expect that, geez." He giggled and wrapped a hand around the thin wood to try and tug it out.

As soon as the arrow flew Gregor leapt forward, zigzagging back and forth as he fell into the mesh of brambles. He was a large man, but he was a quick one as well. He fell upon the lone Risen archer in mere seconds, and his hips twisted to the side as he mercilessly chopped off its head.

"Stupid walking dead…" Gregor watched as the corpse faded into cloudy smoke and glanced around for anything else that might have been in hiding. There wasn't. It must have just been a straggler, lucky for them.

He sheathed his sword and jogged back to Henry's side. If it had been any other person, he might have made better haste, but it was Henry, and Henry was the type who thought common wounds were the equivalent of getting a lollipop from a healer.

Henry was still hunched over and clutching at the arrow as Gregor walked over and knelt at his side. His head was down, and his flossy white hair hung over his face like a veil, but he was chortling under his breath.

"That was awesome!" He weakly raised his head and beamed. "Getting hitand getting to see you act all cool. Didja kill it?"

"Yeah, it killed good, though Gregor will never understand love for injures." Gregor sighed and cupped a meaty hand on Henry's shoulder. He squinted. There was surprisingly little blood. "Does it hurt to move arm?"

"Yup! It's excruciating! Heck, I don't even think I can move it. It must of just hit the muscle… too bad. It was just this close from hitting a big ol' vien." He tried tugging his shoulder back, but his arm only twitched. "I guess we can't have all the luck."

It started to rain harder. A blanket of cold water practically dumped on the both of them as Gregor quickly wrenched the arrow from Henry's shoulder and tossed it aside.

As soon as it was extracted, Gregor bent forward and scooped up the smaller man in his arms, keeping his injured side to the outside. "No more walking now for you," he said. "Shoulder will bounce and make with the bleeding."

Henry chuckled and grabbed his mud-covered tome as Gregor lifted him. "Ooh, but wouldn't that be nice? This is kinda nice too. You're like my knight in shining armor!" Perching the tome in the crook of his lap, he swooped his free arm around Gregor's neck. "Romantic, no? You've even got me all bridal style."

Gregor just laughed. "Keep dreaming, little man. For now, we need go back to camp and have little pigtail girl help with the staves."

"Oh, fine. I guess we just have to…" Henry snickered and bit down on his lip "…B positive! Nyaha!"

Had Henry not been injured, Gregor would have probably punched him right there and then.