At the end of the day, Robena is filled with a deep glow of satisfaction. Before she was Sandsfern's squire she was a forester, and after losing her mistress the first time it was to the wilderness she turned again. It's such a calm pleasure, an eternal stability and an arena where wit, patience and strength can speak their true language. No questions of honour, no buzzing conversations, no foreign protocols or etiquette to struggle with remembering. No hearts to break.

The looming castle weighs upon her as though its foundations ran into her shoulders. This was a return to the world and she could sense it would contain trials more perilous than anything that lurked in this forest. But despite her reservations, Apricot just began picking up speed. That horse knew the shape of dinner on the horizon and she had to admit that she sympathized. She'd passed up three different deer trails to kill this damn fox and if conversation was the price for a meal - as it [i]so often[/i] was - then she'd try her best to be presentable. 

... Oh that was a good thought. Avoid provoking anyone. It probably wouldn't do well for her penance if she got into a drunken brawl in the castle. She'd have to do her best to resist temptation, Sandfern's habits ran deeper than she'd thought.