As the adrenaline started to ebb, the fighter noticed his vision darkening and began to understand it was indeed nighttime where this dream had spawned his sleeping body. What seemed peculiar was the strange casting of purple light, which appeared to be his only real source of luminosity and more curiously it was coming from behind him. He needed answers.

Glancing down at the now squirming girl, he grew less confident in the situation at hand and frowned in frustration before heaving a hesitant sigh to gather his thoughts. The words ‘my kingdom’ peaked his interest as he corrected his original interpretation of the lass as a goddess and settled on the assumption he was holding a highborn lady. It was a knight’s code to serve and protect a person of nobility, despite the small woman’s obvious disdain for the capture. Perhaps a new course of action.

[color=gray]”Very well, m’lady. I shall return you home because I shant leave you here. Now. Kindly, be my lance.”[/color]

His tone was mellow and smooth as the knight then replaced the sword into the miss’ hands and offered a rigid bow of farewell to his opponent before turning on heel to run in the opposite direction. To his surprise there was a purple lantern in his path, scooping it up in need of a torch as well as heeding the girl’s previous mention of the object, he made his way forward. Currently, his only mission was to grow the distance between them and the tattooed stranger as he dashed into the unknown--noting other odd lights in the background, but choosing to avoid those areas for the moment.

The giant; however, did not take into account that coming back from the dead had left his body weak. Convinced they had widened the gap from possible attack range, Fyair gradually slowed his pace like a horse coming out for a full gallop into a trot before finally easing into a complete stop. He then set the girl on her feet and collapsed against a tree not far from where he had begun to regain his breath and energy while he adjusted to offbeat energies around him.

[color=gray]”Forgive me, madam, for sitting in your presences. I am Sir Fyair Ducare and apologize for handling you the way I did, but I sensed you were in danger. Per the Knight’s Order, I am under oath to pledge myself to you if you’ll have me.”[/color]

With a hand over his heart and the other extended to take the lady’s hand for an etiquette kiss, the loyal knight smiled warmly and formally bowed his head.

[@drewccapp]