Torben
Still they were traveling by daylight. Torben was reminded, over the past few days, that there were some people who couldn't see very well in the dark. He was still adjusting to the sleep schedule change, but at least he could see the colors more clearly in the daytime. That was nice enough, even if he hadn't been able to restock on his paints. It seems quality paint was another unknown luxury of monastery life. Besides that, traveling with others was...
...Well, he'd like to think it was pleasant. Hopefully, it would become pleasant. Eventually.
Rillik's call to him surprised him; of all the new people, he thought the gnome was the least trusting of him, the most concerned about his... bugbear-ness. Still, he was more than happy to be of use. Camp life was still mostly a mystery to him, and he'd gotten along with Ragz simply by letting the kobold tell him what to do, and then doing that. "I can't do 'field-dressing'--I don't really know what that is--but I can definitely carry the meat back."
Following Rillik to the sight of the downed deer, Torben blinked in surprise, looking over the extensive wounds on the creature's neck. How had the gnome... he tossed aside the question as unimportant and walked over to stand beside the deer, clasping his clawed hands together. Bowing his head, Torben silently recited a short prayer of peace and thanks to Ilmater.
Then, using one long arm and no apparent effort, Torben grabbed the deer around its middle and lifted it into the air, ready to travel back to camp. "The dog would probably love the entrails, you're right," He said agreeably, eyeing the food in his hand. The arrival of several others had meant the reintroduction of vegetables and grains into Torben's diet, and he was generally too polite to skip over what food was offered to him. This deer, though, was good, fresh meat, and plenty of it...
A bit embarrassed about drooling over a fresh kill, Torben wiped his mouth with the back of his other hand, then turned back to Rillik. "Where do you want it?"