@insahts: “ tell me something happy. ” || meve at reynard
「 ♢ 」CAUGHT OFF GUARD, the count straightened in his saddle, a little too abruptly for his war-worn back’s tastes. He could feel his spine crack, sending a tickling pulse all the way to its end. How long had it been since anyone in the royal entourage could lay their body to rest in a bed worthy of their title? Oh, he failed to remember. But did it truly matter? He would follow the queen before him, unconditionally, to hell && back. And, in a way, the metaphor wasn’t far from their current location. Reynard could swear the hostile thickets of Angren resembled the vestibule of Hell. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows knit together in reverie. Whatever positive, or happy for that matter, could be uttered in their miserable position? When all the gods seemed to have turned their backs on them? He had never been a particularly well-versed storyteller either, for his cold && calculating reason would halt the flowery descriptions of the whereabouts. Or whatever else was there to be discussed.
Was it an order? Hardly used to any other utterances coming from the crowned head beside him, only commands, Reynard assumed it to be so. And like the obedient servant he was, it would count as a disgrace to deny Meve an answer. ❝ Hmm, ❞ the knight stole some desperate seconds by letting out a hum. ❝ The scouts haven’t reported any Nilfgaardian advances, Your Grace. As much as we all would love to soon escape this ... hmm, unfavorable terrain, so to speak, the soldiers are exhausted. And it appears as a small settlement is half a day's journey ahead. ❞ He paused, weighing his words, tasting their flavor that remained in his mouth. What did Queen Meve count as happy anymore? As much as Reynard Odo would love to shower her with cheer && well-deserved peace of mind, there was only so much he could do. ❝ This remains up to Your Majesty’s will, of course, but I do humbly suggest we eased up should the occasion is at hand. ❞













