The meeting tent was simply a tent with a table. Nothing else was in the tent, but it was a formality for foreign clans or peoples. Wester was usually the one to talk with the visitors, on account that the Elder Council could not be risked in meetings. If a leader came to the Drakos-El clan-ground, of course, they would meet in the Elder Council's meeting chamber.
Wester walked in and stood on the far side, opposite of Everyn, with the table between him and the woman. He stood observing her for a moment, trying to assess whether he was right about her being a spy. It seemed like she was, with her inspecting eyes and posture, but Wester was unsure. Maybe she was a spy, and she was sent simply due to her abilities. It made since, the Fregurds were never suspicious of the Dynios or the Drakos-El, simply because the two clans were too busy with each other to even want to attack Fregurd.
"What is it that you wish of me?" Everyn said calmly. She seemed polite enough, but it seemed practiced and not sincere. Maybe she was just tired though.
"We are going to head back to Fregurd and request shelter for my clan members," Wester said simply, "I would like for you to request this to your Clan Leader, as I am unsure if I would be granted the audience and I am not familiar with your customs."
"Sounds simple enough," Everyn replied, nodding, "Consider it done."
"Thank you, Ms. Everyn," Wester said slowly, "Would you mind accompanying me for a moment?" He had to check the grave-digging process for those who died from wounds and he did not want to let this woman out of his sight.
She nodded and accompanied him, though now he knew her to be tired, so he walked slowly.
Nearly ten minutes later, Wester and Everyn were standing in the midst of a graveyard. It was the ancient burial ground for the Drakos-El, containing all the members he had ever known to die. A group of men were around one grave, placing a small body into the hole. Wester only watched as the boy's corpse was sat in the hole and buried, but he noticed Everyn cover her face. She may have experienced Death, but it was nothing compared to a child's death.
Wester felt his cheeks grow wet and realized he was crying. It was not a surprise, he rarely was surprised at his own emotions, it was expected. The Drakos-El were taught to let out anguish and anger so that they may live freely. Wester simply did not bring himself to care about most things, yet...
The sight of this child - Hesoir was his name - being buried and given ceremony made him feel dreadful.
Everyn noticed his tears and seemed surprised. Wester just looked at her. "Tears are not a sign of weakness or pity, they are a sign that we are moving on," he said, turning to leave, "We leave as soon as we are able, make yourself ready, Ms. Everyn."
Wester did not wipe the tears on his cheeks.