[Quiet Man Cometh]

Mistral had risen early that morning, both out of habit and out of excitement for the tournament. With one Sir Guillame’s pages handling the morning chores, Mistral found herself without anything to do apart from take in the city, and the people, and the other knights , their horses, their armour, their banners...This was the image of knighthood she had has as a child, and though she knew somewhat better now, it was still the image she liked best.

Claude was standing and dozing. He wasn’t a magnificent horse by any means, but he was fit, big, and steady, and had no problem with pushing his way through a crowd. Mistral paced, walking over to the page once more as he readied her horse, and turned away again after the page gave her yet another exasperated glance.

With Claude ready, the page helped her up, and she thanked him for his help before riding towards the lists…almost. The page made a quick grab for the reigns and led Claude and Mistral at a responsible pace to where the other knights were gathering.