[center][h2][color=#008b8b]Fionn MacKerracher[/color][/h2][/center]
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[color=#008b8b]"I [i]like[/i] forests,"[/color] Fionn was grumbling to himself further back in the line, heedless of Gerard speaking about him just ahead. [color=#008b8b]"But things just keep going [i]wrong[/i] in this forest. Losing Rickert, Golden Boars all around Cae Mayl, and now this? The Duke of Brennan goes mad out of nowhere? I don't like it, Echaid."[/color] The grey-coated hobby gave a small shake of the head in response, not even bothering to give anything more. As far as Echaid was concerned, a forest was likely the same as any other forest—though he knew that his master was somewhat bothered.

[color=#008b8b]"I mean, really, they named it [i]Sorrow[/i] forest,"[/color] he continued to grumble.

Echaid snorted. [color=#008b8b]"Oh, I know, I know, probably named after somebody with that name, but [i]still.[/i] You know what it's like back home, you know how things like to congregate to places with inauspicious names like that. Should we have brought Fiadh? That might have been a good idea."[/color]

Echaid whinnied agreeably at that thought; sometimes, Fionn thought his horse liked Fiadh even more than him. [color=#008b8b]"Bastard. You just want to play with her more."[/color] Done griping to his horse for the moment, Fionn kicked at Echaid's flanks, riding up to where Rolan, Renar, and Gerard had all convened as the duke's keep loomed. He had to hope for the moment that Renar wouldn't decide to comment on the lack of stirrups, given the efforts that he kept putting in to get Fionn to ride more like the other knights.

[color=#008b8b]"Any ideas on what [i]we're[/i] going to be doing here, lads?"[/color]