The clip-clop of the elegant steed drummed her ears with monotony. The fair lady in the ornate armor, with blue hair and blue eyes drifted her sight lazily around the canopy of the forest, her nose furrowing with disgust. It was then when one of her fiercest enemies was in front of her eyes.

Such darkness, such foul appearance. What with the beady eyes. It was in front of hers, greedily rubbing its forearms. But it was all over too son. A deft strike of her armored hand, and her opponent exploded in a mess of blood and gore.

"Damn bugs." Sult said."Stop ruining my poor maiden's skin!" She whined in a childish tone. Where was she? Oh right, knights, expedition. Bandit-slash-rat-slash-miscreant stomping. Not the most glamorous job but eeeh, one could chuck so many soldiers to bandits before resorting to the big guns. She eyed her companions, before seeing instructions, and some small chatter being sent back and forth. Well, that was a good distraction before the proper gruesome deed, so she pitched in full force.

"Oh, come on, sisters-in-arms, don't tease our captain! She is but the most cute and youthful rose of the garden, how could you not love her? Even a bandit surely would have its heart melted!" The trickster lady spouted, baiting for a reaction in anyone of the present. "I mean, what's so wrong about birthright? We have a [i]King[/i] by [i]birthright[/i], and quite some of us have [i]privileges[/i] for it." Sult smiled coyly, letting her veiled invective sink in the more self-entitled of the knights. Incidentally, quite a lot of those were noble as well.

"It'll all be fine, it's just rat stomping, right? Although we're quite in the rat's den, and who knows what they can do if they're cornered. Little caution won't hurt." Sult pondered. [i]Arrows, Tyaethe? If only they were -just- arrows. We're probably facing some really dirty skirmish tricks if they took out soldiers.[/i] She thought internally, choosing to not undermine the captain's position any further by showing visible concern. Her thoughts quickly race to a distracting maneuver, as she eyed the barbarian, the perky, muscled and ruggedly handsome savage that somehow had gotten in the order, and with her cattiest voice she called.

"Sir Garreeet... Could you do a little favour and take my share too? I am wounded. Bug bites. And I'd love to see that big thing of yours in action too." She probably was referring to the sword. Maybe.

[i]Can't hurt siding with the biggest meanest one in this case.[/i] She added as an afterthought.

([@Themerlinhawk])