Rising Sun Valley There is no word for "thank you" in Doth...

Rakharo's admission of his mistake came as a surprise to the loyal brother.  His brow furrowed and ears bent backwards as Rakharo chugged with disappointment.  Though Lavakho was disenchanted with leaving his homeland, his disappointment did not lie with his brother, but simply the circumstance in itself.  The events of the past few months had been chaotic to say the least after the end of the war and the desertion of the rest of the Khalas, leaving Lavakho craving some shred of stability.   He clung to his brother like a life-raft cut adrift.

"Coi geou qe winhal isthasy.  Nomeno jahus thrice baclax," said Lavakho with a thin smile as he tried to reassure his brother.  However wary of the decision to travel to unknown lands, the soft-spoken warrior was fervently confident in his brother's leadership.   "Nomeno ui wer bensvelkilti ulhyrr yth tepoha. Filki siofme di Zhavvi."  Lavakho knew it was all for her, the last reminder of home Rakharo had.