Wren’s light fingers picked up a turkey leg, turning it over in her hand before beginning to gnaw on it with sharp teeth and pink lips. Her hazel eyes glanced ahead of her to the table where the Bear and Stag sat near the queen, before pulling back the meat from bone, chewing it lazily while the men around her spoke. Most near her were speaking of political alliances, how things were going to change, what they truly thought of the queen. Chewing & swallowing the wad of meat, Wren looked behind her, seeing the rougher men chatting up their harlots with overly embellished tales of blood and gore. She smirked a bit at that, finding the scene rather amusing. The way the girls giggled and seemed fascinated, but would only put out at a price. It was like a game, an act. 

Still smirking a bit, Wren pushed some blonde strands of hair from her cheeks, looking towards the Bear as he stood and began a speech. The longer he spoke, the more serious her gaze became. She knew she had no reason to dislike Gnarl, and yet there was something about him that just irked her. It wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t one to ignore her emotions. She stomped and let out a [b]yea[/b] with the others at the appropriate times, but her facial expression remained the same, simply watching until he bowed before the queen and everyone went back to what they were doing. Wren just kept watching Gnarl, drinking a goblet of wine swiftly and leaving the table as the singing began. She went out by the fire and drank a bit more, but when that became crowded, she turned to leave it too. She was called back to it by some of the men but she smiled and waved them off, telling them to get some sleep, to which they called her a name or two and caused her to laugh with them. She smiled to herself, sleepy and hoping the buzz in her mind would lull her to a dreamless sleep. She barely got into her night gown, which was just one of her father’s old shirts, before crawling under a blanket and falling asleep quickly. The sound of men shouting and smell of fires and dirt like home.

---

Wren snorted awake, her delicate face looking contorted and sleepy as Gnarl yelled. Groaning from the sudden wake up call, she rubbed her eyes, slapping her cheeks, and sitting up. She yawned, running a hand through her locks and crawling from the covers, before dressing appropriately and beginning to follow in the direction Gnarl had gone. Ahead of her were a few of the others already, but Joachim began hanging back as if waiting for her. She gave him a slight eyebrow raise, but said nothing about it, as he rarely bothered her at all and she could relax around him a bit more than some of the others. She knew she should say something, but she just wasn’t as good at making conversation anymore. Perhaps because she found it harder to care.

[b]”Morning,”[/b] she spoke. Her voice was soft and kind, not one that matched the hardened shell she displayed. No one had pissed her off yet today, and so she stood quietly when reaching Gnarl, awaiting his words.