"Argh... a stupid elf." is all that went through Ransley's head as Eoln spoke. It was not that Ransley had anything at elves, it was just that he did not like them and for that matter he did not like anyone. In fact he knew he was here more so for making things harder for the other adventurers rather than for winning. "Quite a temper? Its just a sissy elf. I'd like to see him lose his temper. I think it would be fun to see if theres a dwarf near by." Ransley mused as he began to head in his chosen direction.
"Thats odd... everywhere is itchy." thought Ransley, a bit agitated. So far his plan of making life bad for others had not quite started though he was still in full hopes he would have a shot to pester someone ere the night came to an end. Which was perhaps a safe thing to say, night was quite far off. At present however he had other things to worry about, this field of thistles he was currently walking in for example. "I could make short work of them with my sword but the sane mind always picks the harder and more inconvenient way first." he muttered to himself as he turned his head skywards.
Lo behold! Larks! Larks ate seeds. He brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly, a small flock of larks swooped down near him. "I hope they understand common because I don't speak bird." he took in a deep breath and began to speak. "Righty-o larks of the land! If you'd be so gracious as to guide me through where the thistles aren't so pointed and hopefully less denser than they are here I'd be grateful. In fact I may even have a little something for your trouble." He said to them cheerfuly. "And its pretty hot so if a couple of you'd, the stronger ones would lift this..." He drew his metallic sheet out. "...over my head and keep the sun off me I'd be quite grateful."
All the larks save one picked the sheet out of Ransley's hands and lifted it over his head, protecting him from the sun best it could. It wasn't much but it helped. The lone bird flew a bit and then chirped at Ransley, the ranger could only hope that meant 'follow'. He drew his short sword and began to chop away the thistles in front of him. It was still hard work and had him rather sweaty though the flapping of birds wings near him helped cool him and the sheet kept the sun off him, it would be steaming hot when he got it back he thought.
Once he was out of that thistle infested patch he stooped to the ground, searching for tracks of anyone else who had come this way as the birds placed his sheet near him. "One last task my fine feathered friends." He drew out one of his waterskins and drank a bit to quench his thirst. He then pulled out some blades of grass and spread them on the metallic sheet, pouring all the water left onto them. "Refill this with fresh water. Fly swiftly and try your hardest to get back to me before the night ends." One of the birds took the empty waterskin from him and flew off, the rest following close behind.
Ransley removed his cloak and soon the rest of what he had on and used the wet leaves [rather hot by now] to scrub himself. He then slipped back into his clothes and took a sip out of his other waterskin. He hoped the birds would be back soon though if needed he could live off the water he had for a week, maybe longer, he had done it before several times in the past. He then returned to scanning the ground for tracks.
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