Eastern Farmlands
As she sat on a plain, hard, wooden chair in the living room, and the loud thunk of boots being pulled on drifted through the open door, she laughed lightly. "Ah, I need my own weapon, do I? You aren't going to protect me?" A long bit of plain, beige ribbon was tied around her hair, tugging it into a tidy ponytail, as a proper braid would take too long.
Outside, Coby and Nell continued to meander about the wide, open yard, noses to the earth, with occasional but largely disinterested glances thrown at the young man. The initial excitement coming from the kennel building had begun to die down, but at the cracking-open of the door, Davian would be greeted by a long row of spacious, wooden stalls, each one filled with fresh straw. Behind well-constructed vertical bars, a line of lean, leggy hounds in varying shades of woolly, grey fur came into view. Some were sleeping, curled in corners, others stood at attention, ears perked, tails waving slowly in friendly curiosity.
"Davian?" Emmy's voice carried pleasantly on the cool, morning breeze, coming from the house behind him. "Where on earth are you?"