[b]Robena[/b]

Do you see it? The moment when you strike the hart and it looks at you and accepts the blow? Your strike is clean, and your subsequent work to prepare the return admirable. There are, as ever, loyal dogs who bounce to your side, and nods from the master of the hunt who now quite clearly respects you. You demonstrate your skill, your experience, your talent for things big and small as no part of the deer goes to waste and the castle will eat well this eve. 

The land around you is more alive than you remember as you go about your work. A few birds, those that do not fly for the winter, are up and about and make some noise. A snow rabbit hops by at a distance, wary of provoking the dogs, but curious despite herself. A little snow melts in the lazy afternoon and the nearby stream stirs with the noise of movement. 

All Britain ever asked of you was to be a knight, Robena. Nothing more and, crucially, nothing less. Today, you lived up to the hunt, through your pain and the blackness that hung on your mind. Your reward is that Liana gazes on you with admiration. Why it might even be that she wants to be like you when she's older. Or at least like the you she saw today, the knight who hunted the hart. 

What is it like, to be the subject of admiration as you make your return journey?

[b]Constance, Tristan[/b]

The day is waning and Robena will be back soon. And now you see the true reason why the castellan of the house kept you company. "Unless much has gone poorly, I suspect the ladies will be returning today with venison" Sir Harold says as you finish arranging the many folds of your dress. "Would you or your men care to arrange the evening's festivities? I can have the castle's servants at your beck and call. Do not think any sort of pageantry beyond us. How would you receive your returning knight?"