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The child watched with curiosity as he took a good look at the female. His eyes took in every detail that he could memorise. From the small scratches that had bled, to her clothes. He pursed his lips as he figured out that she must have been running away. From what, he couldn't even imagine, but he himself had done his own fair share of running away lately, it seemed. The roads he'd taken from his last place of inhabitance had been long, and what seemed to be rarely travelled.

His gaze settled on her face, and couldn't help but be shocked by the brilliant green eyes that had stared back at him. He'd nearly forgotten that he'd spoken when she had responded. The question of if he'd been lost seemed invalid to him. He was a traveller, going where ever the wind carried him. Paying careful attention to the simple wooden amulet that was around his neck, the Druid boy shook his head once. Mordred settled his attention on the amulet, looking at the runes written on it. His expression was shaded as he turned his face from her. “I'm not lost. I'm a nomadic person, so I go where I please.” He answered truthfully, as the Druids were nomads. He let a relatively small hand trace along the runes on the amulet he wore, and then glanced back over to the woman.

“I don't know this area well, but it's always nicer to travel in groups.” The boy stated as he settled his gaze on the stony river bank. He shifted to stand and approached the water's edge, staring into the murky depths of the rushing water. “... I haven't really mastered hunting, it wasn't much my job.” He stated, as each member of the group had their own task. He had normally been one to gather, or at least help gather, supplies. He thought for a moment before crouching down at the edge and dipping a hand into the water experimentally. “Are you travelling alone? Why don't we travel together?” He asked with a calm tone.

Carefully watching the older man, simply with a curiosity that had yet to be sated the boy pursed his lips and listened. It seemed to him as if Lancelot spoke quite often and that was perhaps his fault, as he had been the one to speak so little. Between the two, it was one who spoke too little, and one who spoke to clear the void of silence. To him it seemed like the man in front of him was also analyzing the moments they spent together. It was quite an interesting task to take in words, and then to see one's body language.

He knew that he was no longer afraid and was growing quite comfortable, and the fact that Lancelot spoke more and more made the Druid boy realize that it was obvious to the older man. Upon hearing that Lancelot found 'Emrys' as a suitable name for Merlin he gave a small nod. “I know Merlin as Emrys. Myrddin Emrys is his name amongst the Druids.” He stated calmly, ignoring the rest of his words about Merlin being a good man. He personally held things against the man, but wouldn't bring them up.

“He attacks those whom are innocent though. Magic is not good, nor bad. If he used it, it would certainly be for terror.” The child stated and glanced off to the side, knowing just what he meant about Lancelot's words. “I thank you kindly for your words.” He stated softly and bowed his head. The fact that he himself didn't mourn as much as he should have wasn't something he wanted to share. He knew that there had to be a death for every life in the world, and it eased his mind.

And upon hearing the man's words about how he wanted to be a knight from a young age, and the story behind it, he understood him a bit more. “Ah... So, you wanted to be able to help if that ever happened again, and to be able to fight for the innocent people who couldn't.” He mused and then his small smile grew into a grin. He felt like he could truly trust the older man and it eased him a bit, made him forget about any and all betrayal he felt from the citizens of camelot.

The next words he heard, made him think for a moment. Sure, he had been lost but it wasn't the end of it. He hadn't a place to stay any more. “...Well... Actually, I was trying to scout out another Druid Camp. So, I had no real way of finding one of them. There was a misunderstanding between... well, my people and the kingdom of Camelot. I know that some people died... I'm not certain about the rest of my group. We didn't have time to plan on where we would meet after, we just scattered about. I don't really have any place to go now. I've been doing fine on my own.” Mordred was curious about what would be the response to his words. Any sane man would doubt his words as he was just a child.

He knew that children were easily doubted, and that they were normally not to be left alone. His eyes narrowed in thought. “So... I don't really believe that I can allow you to accompany me, as pleasant as it would be. It would be more of a draw back then anything.” The boy stated finally.

Mordred couldn't help but be amused with the reaction he'd received simply for speaking. Sure, he had only said two words his entire time in Camelot but, he'd spoken. It was quite nice to see the woman, he'd learnt that her name was Guinevère and she was a handmaiden to the lady Morgana. The woman seemed pleasant and that inspired him to talk more. He'd already been through so much in the city that he hadn't even known what to make of it. He and his mentor had been buying supplies and the shop keeper had betrayed them.

There was running. Lots of running, followed by hiding. An injury had been inflicted upon that time and he had fallen ill with fever. The lady Morgana, and the famous Emrys had helped nurse him back to health. Gwen had also helped as she was trusted by Morgana. It was pleasant to see that people would deny the laws of the king just for the fact that it was wrong. Not all magic was bad. It was personal. Magic was neutral, neither good nor bad, and it all depended on the person whom used it and what they used it for.

Nibbling on bits of meat and then on some bread after being promted to do so, he glanced over to the woman. Mordred gave her a small smile and then glanced away. ”Thank you very much. It was nice to have something to eat.” He said politely, despite the fact he hadn't eaten much at all, still just not having the appetite to do so.

Watching the woman carefully he noticed how her expressions betrayed what she was thinking. He could tell just by watching her that she was curious. Although, curiosity had apparently killed the cat, it made him curious. ”...What are you thinking about?” He inquired softly.

Mordred recalled the process of being adopted, and he was actually happy to have that happen. He hadn't needed to spend too much time in the orphanage any longer. There had been many weeks of waiting to find out if he really would be leaving. And when the day arrived when he met Guinevère again, he knew that he'd have a loving family to look after him.

He had simply gathered his few belongings into a bag and they had left. The plane ride to his new home had been long, and he had fallen asleep through the most of it. Waking up when they were about an hour from landing. There had been customs to go through, and it took as long as customs leaving Wales. He was vaguely amused by the sights and smells that were so different from Wales.

And then when they were picked up from the airport by a limosine the young boy's eyes went wide as saucers. He simply stared up at Arthur and Guinevère, alternating glances between to the two adults. It was completely grand, it was amazing. Going from so little, to just being taken home like... Well, like this was almost more then he could imagine. He recalled sitting beside his new mother in the ride home, and then being told that they were home. He gave a small nod to indicate he was listening and waited for the door to open and for his new guardians to file out before following them.

He took in the side of the estate and stared. The estate was huge. His eyes widened and he was elated to see how there was also room to play outside. He mouthed 'wow' but did not actually speak. It wasn't that he could not speak. It was simply that he did not like to speak, so he opted to stay quiet, even if that would lead others to quite incorrectly, believe that he was mute. He often spoke to his family, when he had one but, now he had a new family.

Glancing around to take it all in Mordred smiled. No, he more then smiled. He grinned at his new surroundings. It was what any kid would want. A large home, a large yard, loving parents. Despite knowing his new parents well, he knew they loved him already or else he wouldn't have been adopted. The boy was special enough to have been picked out despite his lack of interest in conversing.

He then glanced up to each of his new parents, still grinning before waiting for them to lead them inside. He was imagining that the inside of the house would be grand, and he would have a bedroom that would probably be like a dream. Not to mention he'd be certain to have a room all to himself. That alone was enough to make him all the more excited.

After the little game, so to speak of what he'd felt similar to hide and seek the boy frustrated as he was would stop walking, and start. A response to his words, curious tone had followed. He tried to think of how the man's words were uttered. He was being mistaken for an innocent child, and that would certainly come to his advantage should the situation arise. He was certain he wouldn't have to. The man looked not like any bandit he'd ever heard of when he'd finally let his gaze settle on the figure of an older male.

“I was separated from my group...” Mordred stated, his own feelings of wariness were beginning to rise, as he noticed the man to be a soldier of some sort. This alone made his mind restless. The last time he'd seen a soldier was when the camp was being attacked and that hadn't left him with good memories. He didn't quite know what to make of the older brunet. It was worrisome enough without the idea that the man was from Camelot, although he thought as well that he hadn't recognized him.

Reaching his hands up to pull the hood of his dark green traveling cloak down, he kept his eyes on the older male. He had many curious thoughts and yet didn't want to voice them. He was not one for talking, it was not his personal favorite form of communication. Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he worked up the courage to speak.

“I am not as defenseless as you may like to think, as a first statement. Why are you out here? Are you a soldier?” He questioned apprehensively. Why am I even bothering? This man could be dangerous, and he looks like he is a soldier, it would have been safer if I hadn't asked questions. I should just run before he does something, Mordred found himself thinking as he took a step further away from the older male. The young Druid boy watched the unknown soldier with caution. The only reason he wasn't running was that he felt it unwise to turn his back to someone with weaponry, whether he had done so before or not.

Mordred opened his mouth to say something then stopped himself, taking small steps backwards. “...I mean it, why are you out in the forests of Balor?” He asked, trying to remain with a calm tone and yet failed as his voice gave way to how nervous he was. One more step back, and a protruding root of a tree caused him to stumble before landing on the ground with a soft thud and a small groan. Glancing still at the man, even from his place on the ground he couldn't help but feel terrified despite knowing he had his magic to help him out of any sticky situation to come. Finally he decided to state his name. “My name is Mordred.” He said with an air of false confidence.

As the Druid boy was left alone for a few minutes he had closed his eyes, resting just for a bit longer. He needed to get his strength back, and he was thankful for all that the lady Morgana and Guinevère had done for them already. He'd been sheltered, looked after, and he had received medical attention. For that very fact he was grateful. Camelot was full of some very kind, caring people that were risking their own lives for him. It was odd for him to think about since they knew nothing about him.

The sound of a door opening drew him out of his thoughts and his eyes opened. Mordred waited, growing anxious as he heard footsteps drawing closer and closer. He was relieved when he saw that it was just Gwen and glanced up at her with his large blue eyes. The boy simply nodded in greeting, not really one to use his voice. Upon noticing the plate of food he could feel how hungry he truly was, and his mouth began to water.

Glancing off into space, he listened to the woman, and nodded to indicate he was listening. So she had gone to get him something to eat. For that he was thankful. Letting his gaze settle back on the female, he gave her a small smile and another nod in gratitude. Shifting to sit up he glanced down at the plate and then picked it up to take a closer look at the food. It isn't that he didn't trust Guinevère, it's that if it was meant for the king, then he didn't know if it really was safe. He had the type of mind set to think of all the possibilities before taking his course of action.

Mordred began picking at the food, not really having much of an appetite, and when he finished what he wanted to eat the boy simply set the plate down. Taking a deep breath he glanced over to the King's Ward's handmaiden. “Thank you...” He said, speaking for the first time in a long while, Normally preferring not to.

Already plotting in his head what he could possibly do to get his vengeance the boy remained quiet for the most part. He nodded slightly and then glanced over to the older male, not quite understanding how he could be so caring about him, and yet he was the reason that he was alone in these hard times. It was so very contradicting how he could be helped out from one place, only to be put in direct danger after and yet, here he was. Talking to him as if he cared about him. This fact confused the boy.

It only vaguely made him curious as to why the older male was out all this way alone. Certainly there had to have been some reason for the heir to the throne to be alone in such a dangerous place. And the aspect of sleeping in a bed did appeal to him. Although, there was one small problem with the plan of going to an inn. “...I have not nearly enough alms for an inn.” He stated quietly, somehow feeling embarrassed to admit such a thing to the older male. He felt like he had to prove himself though. Though it still confused him as to why the blond was taking the time to show kindness to him. He pursed his lips, thinking it through.

On one hand, the prince had proven himself kind enough to sneak him out of his holding cell in the dungeons, risked his own life to sneak him out of the castle, out of the kingdom, and had been his travel companion until he was safe and sound with his people. Then there was the fact that when the Lady Morgana had came to them, Arthur and his men had killed innocent people. The fact that his guardian figure, Aglain had been shot and killed right in front of him. That was the sole factor in determining how he felt. It wasn't like Arthur was all that bad of a man. Some choices just caused trouble for him.

“...How is the lady Morgana?” Mordred finally inquired, all too curious to know how she was. It was an innocent question as it was. Morgana had helped nurse him back to good health when he was last in Camelot and had developed in turn developed a close bond. Mordred just hoped that his question wouldn't be taken the wrong way, after how it must have appeared when Morgana was last with them. He had at least gotten to return the favor and take care of her. “And... We didn't kidnap her, just so you know.” He added in as an after thought.

Mordred was still oh so sour, and the fact the man before him was the one who had gone after his people was what truly had angered him. He did not know the full situation on regard to that topic, other then it had all been to bring the lady Morgana back to Camelot. Had they thought she had been kidnapped? He didn't know what had given them reason to invade the camp. The Druids were a peaceful lot in general, and helped those with magic. What would have happened if the blond in front of him knew the truth of the topic that had caused such friction between him and those who had once helped him escape from where he was bound to follow the footsteps of his previous mentor and his parents.

Upon noticing the older male's eyes trained to him the corners of the young lad's lips tugged upwards into something akin to a smirk. He was confident with his own actions no matter how mature they were for his age. He knew that he had no reason to be afraid, as he had taken out so many people with just a scream. The older male's words in response had both surprised him and amused him. The other male surely knew he was a Druid, which meant that he practiced magic, and thus couldn't have been harmless, defenseless, too guileless to protect himself with his gift. “I can take care of myself, sire.” His words were true, the last word was tacked on with a somewhat mocking manner. It was a simple task to take care of himself. He thought for a moment over what his answer would be for the next set of words he heard.

“Are you here alone?” Had been the words he had heard. He'd believed that to be an easy enough answer. Mordred was standing alone, was he not? He was in the middle of a dense forest and he was being asked if he was traveling alone? He couldn't believe the naivety of the question asked of him.

“I am alone.” Mordred replied simply after a moment, his gaze still locked onto Arthur as if he were a target. He knew that every one underestimated him for his age, and that was a big mistake that to some would one day prove fatal. Mordred finally decided to move and took a few cautious steps towards Arthur, attention slipping only to keep a branch from scratching against his face as he glanced towards the branch, pushing it aside. He took one more step, there was still quite a distance between the two and his gaze move back keep a close watch on the older male.

Rare enough of an occurrence, Mordred was alone and had wandered into the forest of Balor. The many bushes and trees were a tad tricky to navigate his way through, trying not to snag his traveling cloak on anything made it all the more challenging. With careful hands the boy pushed branches out of his way and lightly stepped through, a few twigs broke as he moved about, but that was inevitable with how dense the forest was in the area. He had heard his elders talk about the forest before. He knew the dangers still and accepted them with open arms so to speak. He was certain that he'd be able to take care of himself as he did have magic at his disposal. It was startling never the less as he heard a light rustle of leaves.

Pausing where he was, Mordred's eyes widened and his lips pursed. If he remained still then there was a possibility he'd find it to be one of the various creatures that lived in the forest, he was certain of it. Aware of just where he was the boy made the decision to turn and take a three-hundred sixty degree view of his surroundings, hoping to find what or whom may have been near him. Spotting nothing immediately the child lowered the hood of his cloak and began on his way again.

He couldn't help but become anxious despite trying to keep a cool head. He knew that something was near him, be it human or not was what he didn't know. Is anyone there? He called out mentally, knowing that if it were a human being with magic, they would be able to hear him clearly, even if no one else would be able to. He waited for a while as he kept climbing over and through the dense vegetation covering, hoping solely to get an answer. Upon getting no answer he figured that either he had imagined it, there was an animal out and prowling about, or the person was not one with magic, which could mean he was in danger if it was some one from Camelot, despite the fact that he was not in the kingdom of Camelot itself, it seemed that king Uther had declared war on all magic, be it in his kingdom or not, or so Mordred believed. Finally he grew frustrated of the surprising quiet.

“Come out, come out where ever you may be...!” He called out with his voice, irked that he had to do such a thing, as it was not his preferred form of communication in the least. All he could do was stop where he was, and wait for an answer.