what are we waiting for?

There was no raid yet. Corvus couldn't help but feel weird about the whole thing - why had Ignis warned him, and why had a messenger come, if they were going to take this long? Wasn't the whole point of the raid because they had a debt to pay, something to prove to some group they'd made a deal with? Even thinking about it made his head hurt, but dwelling on it for this long made him feel downright exhausted. The waiting sucked, and the worrying about whether or not Abaven was prepared for such an attack sucked even worse. He didn't even know if winning was in their best interest. Did Winterfell have to take something from them for this to count? Would there be witnesses?

Corvus headed a sigh, shaking his head to adjust the red bandana that lay around his neck to a more comfortable position. It was a trinket he'd fond when he was younger, the thing worn and tattered from years and years of not being used - he'd found the think buried somewhere in the dirt, so long ago now, and though he'd washed it out as best he could it had never quite come completely clean. Either way, he still liked it, and in a way now it reminded him of his youth; of being more carefree, though he'd never really been allowed the full innocent of a normal childhood. His parents had left when he was young, his sister had disappeared not long after, and so had his brother.. at least for a while. He kicked idly at a patch of upturned dirt as he walked, trekking through grasses that grew much more thickly now that the volcano's effects had mostly subsided. Maybe wandering the plains would help ease some of his restless thoughts, but then again he wasn't feeling terribly optimistic about that fact..