( It's not that he's following her, because he isn't. As it so happens, he was already nearly a mile deep in the woods first, thank you very much. It's just that he's only been here for a month, and already he's seen too many people wandering around in these terrible woods unguarded, unprotected, like fucking morons. She may be a witch, but even a witch can be taken by surprise. He's seen things here now. Boars are one thing, but fucking dragons? Gods only know what else lurks, hungry.
The horse looks strong. Seems a shame to risk it. Not like it had a choice. That's all it is.
And so he trails her at a distance, not sneaking exactly, but also doing absolutely nothing to draw attention to himself. Certainly not interrupting her very important conversation with a fucking tree, nor her monologue about her magic — which is something he takes note of, files away for his own internal reference.
He fully intends to just stand there some thirty paces behind her, hand absently on the hilt of his sword, observing — and possibly on stand-by, in case something fucking stupid happens. That's his specialty, after all. A couple decades of habit are hard to break. )
c.
The horse looks strong. Seems a shame to risk it. Not like it had a choice. That's all it is.
And so he trails her at a distance, not sneaking exactly, but also doing absolutely nothing to draw attention to himself. Certainly not interrupting her very important conversation with a fucking tree, nor her monologue about her magic — which is something he takes note of, files away for his own internal reference.
He fully intends to just stand there some thirty paces behind her, hand absently on the hilt of his sword, observing — and possibly on stand-by, in case something fucking stupid happens. That's his specialty, after all. A couple decades of habit are hard to break. )