Salah gladly shook Ser Gabriel's hand and quietly thanked him for his congratulations, taking the message and quickly looking it over. Unlike Ser Gabriel, he had been born into nobility and educated thusly, and he passed the missive back without a word scantly fifteen seconds later, its contents burned into his mind. "I do, Ser, but I'll need more than that before I leave. Allow me a few minutes to get everything," he requested, sprinting off to the barracks without waiting for permission, or even acknowledgement (such a thing was a waste of his time and Ser Gabriel's both, not to mention a delay of justice). Two such necessities, his senior's eyes noted, were his sword and shield - evidently, Salah had attended his knighting ceremony unarmed.
But a minute later, Salah had burst into his room and commenced preparations, hastily collecting not only his arms and helmet, but smithing supplies sufficient to repair both his and Ser Gabriel's armor were they to suffer moderate damage, a small journal (as well, of course, with both quill and ink), and enough imperial coinage to pay for several weeks of food and lodgings. Now armed and generally better-prepared for the assignment, he raced back to the stableyard and into the stables to saddle his own horse, a massive storm-grey stallion, and pack his saddlebags with what little he had taken. Shortly thereafter he rode out astride the beast, meeting his comrade-in-arms in the center of the stableyards. "I apologize for your wait, Ser Gabriel, but I thought it unwise to begin my first assignment unprepared," he noted, neither his words nor breathing betraying the haste with which he had provisioned his departure.