"Just admit you're lost," Ailith sighed, her head rolling back so that her chestnut mane spilled across her withers. She looks towards her dappled teacher who studied the root patterns with a patience she would never have.

"I'm not lost, I simply need to get my barings." Benegar retorted, not even looking at her. Her tail flicked, the braids woven along the dock of her tail losening already. They hadn't been at this more than an hour after waking up from their small camp they'd made down here, and Benegar of course took the lead. It wasn't a squire's job to make the calls, afterall.

"When you took this assignment did you at least bother to buy a map?" Her hooves slipped forward and she glanced at him over and downturned muzzle. Benegar finally looked over to her, his steel confran highlighted with a blade of yellow in their lantern light.

"Of course, who do you take me for, Ailith?" Even offended he wore a smile, with a brightness in his eyes that belayed his kindness. Sometimes it made Ailith's blood boil, sometimes it made her heart warm. She traipsed up beside him, her leathers paling in comparison to his finely crafted knight's steel.

"How about you take that out and we'll figure out where we're going, alright?" She smiled back at him, though the twinkle in her eye was delicately mocking. Benegar's gaze darkened as his brow furrowed though the smile never left his muzzle. With a sigh, the behemoth of a man reached into one of his saddle bags and produced a scroll. Though, he didn't open it. Instead, he reached out and offered the parchment to her, nestled twixt his lips.

His voice was muffled by the paper, but he still clearly said, "Here, then you use the map." Ailith took it, and he finished, "And I'll see if I can figure out where we are the old fashioned way."

Again, Ailith rolled her eyes. She tossed the parchment over his back, to his dismissive and offended snort. "Oh, stop it." She teased, and applied all she had taught him to triangulate their position.