The pace they set while following Lylimet's tracks was excruciatingly slow, and Jessimyn felt overwhelmed by impatience before it was even midday. She was not used to being in the back of the group, not used to being unable to affect the pace. She managed to stay alert, as alert as the others, but it was difficult not to push forward. At least she knew she could trust Zevran to keep his eyes open for any traps, but she wanted to be up there with him, not stuck in the back of the group with... Berton.

Jessimyn realized Berton was staying very quiet. There was no need for absolute silence, and she could hear Jandin and Zevran talking quietly ahead. He was obviously troubled, and Jessimyn suddenly felt guilty that she wasn't quite so troubled by Joffey's death. At least, that's what she assumed was bothering Berton. It wasn't as if she didn't care, but they certainly hadn't been close. And what sort of man decides to sleep with someone he just met, especially when they knew she might be dangerous? Well, Jessimyn couldn't exactly fault him for that. She'd had her share of regrettable couplings, after all, though none had left her dead. And while she didn't think Joffey and Berton had been close, either, she knew it was difficult for a leader to lose someone.

"It's not your fault, you know," she said softly, and Berton turned to look at her.

"There are many things that are my fault, and many things that aren't, so I suppose I can neither agree nor disagree unless you're more specific." He turned to glance out over the woods around them.

Jessimyn sighed. Was she really surprised that he was going to make her work to comfort him? No, not really. "Joffey," she said. "It's not your fault he's dead."

Berton grunted. "It is always the fault of the leader when someone dies. If he was unprepared for a situation, it was because I didn't ready him for it."

"His head was turned by a pretty, albeit dangerous, woman. I'm not sure preparation and logic would have helped him any."

Berton chuckled softly. "Beautiful, not pretty. Pretty he may have been able to withstand." He sighed harshly. "Still. I left him alone with her. I underestimated her as much as he did. We all did. It was just that Joffey was the unlucky one to invite her back to his tent."

Jessimyn didn't know what to say to that, so she left it. After all, Berton was right. It could have just as easily been someone else who died. What if it had been Zevran who Lylimet had decided to spend the night with? While Jessimyn would like to believe Zevran would have been able to protect himself better... she gave her head a little shake. That was not something she wanted to think about. Jessimyn noticed Berton eying her, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Did you ever lose anyone?" He asked. "One of your... followers, I mean?"

"My mabari," she said softly.

"Yours personally? Or was it one that fought with you but was bonded to someone else?" Berton alternated his attention between Jessimyn and their surroundings.

"She was mine," Jessimyn said. "Her name was Vixen. She was a present for my twelfth birthday, and she fled Highever with me when... when I was recruited into the Grey Wardens. She was with me until the end of the Blight, but in that final battle... I had to leave her behind, as we made our way up to the tower, where we battled the Archdemon. After the fighting was over, and we came back down, she... we found her body."

"Ah," said Berton. "So it was a loss not only of one of your soldiers, but it was personal as well. I am sorry."

Jessimyn appreciated that, that he didn't just treat it like the death of a favorite pet. After all, Vixen had saved her life more than once, and she had been as much of a fighter as Sten or Oghren or even Alistair. Berton made a small noise, and Jessimyn looked over at him to see a somewhat startled look on his face.

"You said..." He shook his head. "The mabari was a present? For your twelfth birthday?"

Jessimyn nodded.

"And... how long do mabari normally live?"

A little flash of anger went through her. "She was getting up there in years, but she still had a number left, and she was still as capable as when she was only a few years..."

Berton shook his head quickly, and he put a hand on her arm to quiet her. "No, no. I didn't mean it that way." He gave a little smile. "I would never imply that an older soldier is of less worth than a younger one. It's just... Maker, how young are you?"

Jessimyn blinked, then smiled a little at him. "Apparently younger than you thought. Why? How old did you think I was?"

With another shake of his head, Berton replied, "Oh, no. I know better than to answer that question when a woman asks it."

"Especially when you think I look older than I really am, I'm sure." She grinned. "I was nearly twenty when I became a Grey Warden. I'm twenty-six now."

"...still a baby," Berton muttered under his breath, taking in another sweeping glance of the woods. "Maker, kitten. I could be your father."

"You're not so old as that," Jessimyn said, trying not to smile. "My father was much older than you are now, I'm sure."

"Maybe so, but I could be. I was already married before you were even born."

She gave up trying not to smile and grinned openly at him. "Are you so ashamed, then? That I've accomplished so much in my short life, while you've done relatively little with yours?"

Berton snorted loudly, and Kyran turned around briefly to look at them. "No, kitten," Berton said softly, his voice so deep it rumbled. "Rather, I feel a little ashamed at all of the things I've thought about doing with you... doing to you... seeing as how you're barely more than a child. I'm only a little ashamed, though."

Jessimyn turned her head away from him. "I'm hardly a child," she began, then cut herself off. What was she trying to do? Encourage him? "Besides, that is a terribly inappropriate thing to say."

He laughed, a rumbling sound that seemed to slide across her skin. "Inappropriate for what sort of situation? Inappropriate to say if I were going to meet your father, perhaps, considering we'd be of an age, but when it's just you and me..." She realized his hand was still on her arm, and she took a step away from him.

"Well, you needn't have any worries about meeting my father, of that I can assure you."

"Why?" Berton smiled at her. "You don't think he'd like me?"

Jessimyn just looked at him for a moment. She had always assumed that everyone was aware of her history. "Because he's dead, Berton."

"Ah," he said, and Jessimyn found herself wishing he looked more embarrassed by his words. "That would make a meeting difficult, then. I suppose I should have known that, though. If your brother's a teyrn, it would have to mean your father was no longer with you." Jessimyn turned her head away, no longer wishing to continue the conversation. Berton, however, seemed to have other desires. "I guess you'll just have to introduce me to your brother sometime, then."

"Well, I know he wouldn't like you," she said, no longer trying to be nice or comforting.

"Why?" Berton asked, and Jessimyn could hear the smile in his voice even though she was looking away from him. "Too old? Or something else?"

It was a ridiculous question. Why should he even care what her brother would think of him? They would likely never meet, and even if they did, Fergus had never cared to know any of the other Grey Wardens. Well, if Berton was going to ask blunt questions, she would give him a blunt response. "No," she replied. "Because you're too common."

But instead of offending or angering Berton as Jessimyn half-hoped it would, if just so that he would leave her alone, he let out another laugh, causing Kyran to again turn around and glance at them. "Oh, that. Well that I can't argue with. You just seem so accepting of commoners that I assumed your family was the same. But as nobles go, I'm sure you're probably more of the exception than the rule. And so what does your noble brother think of you being a Grey Warden, then? I can't imagine it's what he hoped you'd end up to be?"

"No, he hoped I would be queen," Jessimyn said before she even realized what she was saying. At least she was still turned away from Berton, so that he couldn't see the shocked look on her face. How had she managed to just let that slip? Those words led down a path she wouldn't venture, but she'd just opened it up for him, if he took it.

Berton laughed again, and once Jessimyn's face was composed, she risked a glance at him. "Well," he said. "I guess everyone wants something better for themselves. Even you nobles."

Jessimyn was all too happy to let the conversation rest there. They walked along in silence again, when Berton suddenly reached out and touched her arm. Jessimyn instinctively went to pull away from him, but his fingers closed around her, and he whispered softly. "When I let go, you're going to stop and make as if to adjust a buckle on your boot. I keep thinking I'm catching movement behind us, but when I actually go to look, there's nothing there."

Jessimyn just gave a little nod, and he released her arm. Jessimyn stopped and reached down, her fingers going to her boots. Jandin, Joffey, and Kyran kept on, but they weren't moving quickly enough to get too far ahead. Jessimyn glanced behind them quickly, and after just a moment she caught a quick flash of movement. She straightened. "Something's there, yes. But I don't think it's a person. Looks more like an animal."

"One that's stalking us?" Berton asked without turning around. He touched her arm again, and they began walking slowly after the others. "Are you certain?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessimyn caught more movement, and she stopped and turned to look, not caring if she was seen. A ways off, a wolf stepped out of the brush. She met its eyes, and the wolf let out a low growl. "Don't look it in the eye," Berton hissed, and Jessimyn looked down so that she could still see it without looking right at it. The wolf let out a soft yip and went running back the way it had come, disappearing into the woods behind them.

"Strange," said Berton, watching the animal disappear. "Where's the rest of the pack? Not that I'm upset there was only one, but still..." He shrugged, then gestured to the rest of the group moving off into the trees ahead of them. "Come on, let's catch up. Unless you'd rather take advantage of this alone time to..."

Jessimyn didn't even let him finish his comment as she hurried after the others, and Berton quickly followed, so that he was once again walking at her side. "One of these days," he said with a grin. "You'll surprise me and agree to one of my suggestions."

"Actually," Jessimyn responded. "I was hoping that, one of these days, you'd take the hint and stop asking."

"Not a chance," he said, his voice once again that low rumble.

"Lecherous old man," Jessimyn muttered under her breath, and Berton's laugh seemed to bounce off the trees around them.