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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
Exelder chuckled. Well, now is the best time to learn, cub. You will have plenty of time in the saddle to get an arse sore the size of your skull. Now ease up on the poor beast or eventually he'll get antsy beneath you. He can tell when you're nervous around him. So treat him like an ally of the best possible sort. Breathe freely, stay calm, and just stick to the horse's rhythm. It is by his grace that you are traveling as fast and as far as you are. The Tulius was an easy going person on the road. The burden of responsibility was not yet on his shoulders, that he knew and relished the small bit of freedom on the road. To look around and see the trees standing tall about him, listening to the chirrups of birds and the chirring of the insects, he could feel a modicum of freedom, a light heartedness that he could never seem to feel in the Complex of his father's time. It almost didn't matter that the mantle of burdens would fall upon him once more when he achieved Randatria. He was completely comfortable leaving Whisper in charge of the expedition, to follow orders instead of make them though, as a paladin, it almost seemed like blasphemy.

Whisper cast her eyes about as they traveled. The daylight was fine and bright, the humidity laying upon them like a thick blanket that made her skin feel as though it stuck to her armor. The heavy thudding gait of Wraith beneath her was, at once, jarring and smooth. It stirred up enough of a breeze with the movement to wick the sweat from her neck though it clung to her forehead, pressed and scraped at by her heavy dark hair.

Despite the fact that she was watching, Whisper still managed to not see the woman dart out into the road ahead of her. Wraith screamed and reared, pawing the air as the woman fought to stay in the saddle for that startling instant. The woman brought her hands up to her chest, clasping at her heart as she stumbled back a step away from the snorting, bellowing horse whose front hooves slammed back down into the heart with a reverberating hammer. Exelder managed to rein in Clout easily, the smaller mare not so nearly as temperamental as the warhorses. The young woman stood, shrunken before the party in the road, her thin form covered in a short sleeved dress created of crude, graying burlap over her skinned knees and bare feet. A coyote pelt was slung across her shoulders. Her hair was tangled and had been potentially a dark blond or a brown of some sort save for the fact that she was so dirty. Splotches of blood could be seen on her hands, arms, and on her clothing and tear tracts under each of her light hazel-brown eyes were clearly visible through the dirt on her face. Please! Help me! Please say you'll help me!

What? Confusion was written all over Whisper's face. It had seemed pure coincidence to her that they had even nearly run the woman over on the road and now she was requesting assistance.

My family was... oh! Please help! With that, she darted back into the trees, the noise she made a clear indication of the way they should go if they would follow her.
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Warhorse Way · Pathways of the Five Pilgrims

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