Falling Outs
She rode as normal toward the Dawn Hall, this time in high spirits, but with a lot on her mind as well. She was not sure how she would talk to him, but she knew she could not put it off any longer.
After all it was hurting inside, causing her grief at times, even making her angry and upset. Fiontann was going to get quite the earful when she could find the opportunity to speak with him.
Chaney would pull on Bertnar’s reigns as they entered the gateway to the grounds. She walked him up the hill and toward the posts outside at the side of the steps by the hall. As she rode by she passed a smile down toward the guard dog whom had trotted up, this time being ever so much more used to her, wagging his tail and acknowledging her.
As usual with her lightning quick agility she would jump down from her companion and friend and tie him to his post. Before lowering her hood, and walking round to the main steps leading up to the front door.
As she approached the steps she noticed a group had gathered over by the old ruins. Chaney could make out one or two whom she recognized. Deorgast was there, and obviously Fiontann, whom looked in quite the mood.
Chaney lazily walked over and up the slope and into the ring of people, where she was immediately greeted with a stern look from Fiontann, and nothing more than a snap of an order to run literally five times around the hall? Five times? What for? For being late…………………..late for what? She had thought.
This instantly raised the ire of anger inside her and she did nothing more than angrily stride over to her favorite perch just above the small lake which sat beneath the hill and trees.
After a while she had noticed Fiontann walk toward her and again had barked the order………………well that was it, there was no way she was going to be treated this way.
She stormed off over to Bertnar, untied him, grabbed the reigns, jumped up into the saddle. She offered him to walk, in which he instantly complied. That was it she thought, she could only think of the way she had been treated.
As she rode passed the group she offered nothing more than an awful cold glare toward FIontann, but she also noticed another figure of a man. A grey clad man, whom she had never seen before now.
Anger and frustration rapidly built inside of her as she galloped off down the path, and headed for the one place she knew she could gain some inner satisfaction.
The Prancing Pony, where no doubt she would drink a few ales, and more than likely by the nights end…………………end up in a fight, and in trouble….
