[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/i2s5ACo.png[/img][/center]

Fire and smoke trickled into his form, making him whole, making him bound. That was what Gawain sensed, a fleeting flavor that dissolved soon after, leaving nothing but an uncommong certainty. Though the woman before him was certainly [i]a[/i] Master, she wasn't [i]his[/i] Master. And this world too was no proper battlefield, all narrow fields and impractically tall towers. Destruction abound, yet not a single person in sight.

Except for the wavy-haired man with piercing eyes.

In one moment, Gawain met his gaze. In another, the man bolted, shooting through the empty streets, his cobalt cape trailing behind him. Oho? The petite pharaoh behind him spoke of her own plan, something about securing the Leyline, but ultimately, the young knight wasn't even certain what he was here for. No Holy War roared within his mind, instructing him to the slaughter of his own kind, and only vestigal memories clung to him, speaking of a freezing cold room divorced from the temperate climate before him. But there was someone to race, and that challenge alone was enough to stoke Gawain's competitive spirit. [b]"Fret not, Queen of Sands,"[/b] Gawain turned, his youthful countenace sparkling despite the dreary circumstances, [b]"This pursuit will not be long at all, and I shall most certainly return with the runaway in tow."[/b]

A flick of his own cape (also a rich cobalt blue) and the young knight was off. He dashed up onto a car, leapt up into the air, and by the time he landed, his steadfast charger landed with him. Thundering hooves pursued their quarry, but Gawain drew no weapon yet. This was merely a [i]race[/i], after all, and there wasn't any glory in running through someone in the process of retreating.

Then again, could it really be considered chivalrous to chase after someone who clearly just wants to escape?

Hm...

Ah, blast it, who cares?

[b]"Hey, you!"[/b] Gawain called out, waving one hand in the air. [b]"Why you running? What even happened here?"[/b]