Barsolas didn't really walk very deep into the woods. He made sure that he'd still be able to see and hear the group. He knew that he was pretty much hated by the whole group, but he still needed to be sure. You know, before he headed back to his army. He admitted that he would miss some of them... okay, one of them. Plus a nutso elemental mage that he'd started to like. Sol sighs. He knew what he'd have to do. Yeah, he'd go. Leave at nightfall when everyone was asleep. He'd re-group with his people and then... well, he didn't know what he'd do then, but he knew that he couldn't stay. It caused him too much pain. He'd even driven Nevermore to despise him... so how could he stay? He couldn't.
After all of this thinking, Barsolas stepped out of the shadows of the forest and made his way back to the others, seating himself upon a fallen log and forcing himself to wear a fake, yet believable, smile.