[color=c4df9b][b][h3]Siran Vahramyan Arshakuni[/h3][/b][/color]

[i][color=c4df9b][b]"Kept you waiting, huh?"[/b][/color][/i] Siran spoke softly to Karabakh as she approached her horse. [i][color=c4df9b][b]"Well, we're finally going to do something more than practise. Time to do what you were bred for."[/b][/color][/i] As she saddled up, she felt someone else's eyes on her. It was the bard, and it seemed as though he wanted to say something. However, instead of saying his piece, he just smiled and winked at her and awkwardly left. It was somewhat strange to behold. Was he painfully shy, or was it some bizarre attempt at flirting? Either way, Siran was just going to write that encounter off as a brief oddity. Hopefully the bard wouldn't be like that the entire journey.

Moving to join the others, as she heard they would be leaving soon, Siran briefly noted that the girl that seemed to stick to the prince like glue was riding side saddle. Siran had to stifle a giggle; the customs of the nobility were truly absurd. She really hoped the girl wasn't planning to ride into battle like that. Her attention was then caught by the man whom she had pegged as being another nomad earlier; he did not seem all that natural around horses, however. [color=c4df9b][b]"Did they not use horses in your clan?"[/b][/color] She spoke to him, shuffling her horse closer. She could tell he had Ibionese features, and she could guess he belonged to one of the other nomad tribes, but she couldn't say which. Perhaps there were some that didn't rely on horses like the Arshakuni or others like them.

[@Lord Orgasmo]