[COLOR=SLATEGRAY][CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ndJxJSU.png[/img][/center][b][center] [color=black]W Y S T A N B L A C K M A N E[/color] [color=black] W Y S T A N B L A C K M A N E[/color] [color=85aabd] W Y S T A N B L A C K M A N E [/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/center][/color] [center][color=white]T H E W A T C H D O G ' S T R A I L[/color] [sup][sup]_________________[/sup] [color=lightgray] EVENING INTERACTIONS: Princess Anastasia [@princess], Prince Callum & Leo [@Helo], Queen Alibeth [@princess] [/color] [url=https://imgur.com/Fr7mgaw]KISOMAN GUARD ROBES[/url][/sup][/center][hr][hr] [indent]In the midst of the night, Wystan approached the warehouse with increased caution. Thanks to Clive’s thieves’ cant left along the way, the location of the warehouse was easily narrowed down to just the one before him. This could be the only time he would be grateful for the messenger’s barely readable signage, for he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed by any more tag-alongs. For the first time this evening, at least this part had been just as planned; he was alone and could feasibly carry out the second prince’s bidding. After thoroughly scanning the perimeter, the watchdog deemed the docks as… quiet. Serene, almost. There were no signs of life around other than the lone bird overhead and a couple of rats or two. His mount, Dusk, had been safely parked in a location within the residential area a fair distance away, and so he was free to navigate as he pleased. However, in time he would soon come to regret this decision. Indeed, the docks were quiet… for all the reasons behind his worries he would soon find contained inside the seemingly lone storage unit. As if floodgates had been opened, a line of unrecognizable individuals began to stumble out one after the other like shambling corpses. Based on their clothing and certain pieces of regalia, they seemed to be nobles or at least high-ranking officials. There were even those who looked to be from Alidasht; surely not something the visiting Sultan would be happy with. He sighed in his heart - this was a matter that unfortunately Auguste would need to get his hands dirty with once more. Needless to say, all these people’s departure from this building meant that they did not look like a pretty sight. Some tripped over their own feet as if they weren’t theirs. Some gave it their best effort to crawl out on all fours as if their lives depended on it. Some seemed completely dazed and didn’t dare to move at all. And before any of them could notice just exactly who had been making these observations, the bodyguard had quietly slipped himself into a hiding place behind some cargo boxes. A high-pitched whistle would sound then, calling for Dusk to come. Obscured behind the shipments, Wystan narrowed his eyes in concern as he continued to watch who all exited the warehouse. He… could not find the prince nor the princess. Clive was not present, which only meant that he had confirmed the Danroses’ presence tonight, and had already gone to inform Prince Auguste and Wulfric. Surely, this was the right container. The bodyguard’s eyes continued to dart back and forth from the beginning of the crowded line, quickly sweeping through the faces to find the ones he was looking for. They had to be here. Otherwise… had he been too late? Had something happened? In time he would spot them. One with dark brunet hair, and another with platinum blonde. The watchdog let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding until then, resting a hand on his heart as if to calm it for the second time that night. He shot out from between the cargo and swiftly made his way to find Callum and Anastasia while carefully moving aside the rest. As he approached, he took notice of the man with the third Danrose prince hoisted nonchalantly over his shoulder. A sigh was given and not much else before the watchdog executed his retrieval plan. In a sentence or two, the bodyguard would collect the youngest prince of Caesonia and hoist him over his own shoulder. If the man would need credentials, then he would expertly flash his badge detailing his position as the Second Prince’s retainer before lifting the brunet onto Dusk. Wystan took the horse by the reigns and guided her around the crowded exit before stopping abruptly after honing in on a disgusting sight. After a rough exchange and a bloody nose later, he took Anastasia into his arms and let the man who tried to slip her away fall to the floor. The poor fellow’s nose gushed a waterfall of crimson, bleeding all over himself as he deigned to cast an accusatory glance at Wystan, who simply looked back down at him, sparing not a single word. He rolled his neck and cracked both his gauntleted knuckles around the princess, his eyes giving a clear warning for a second approach (and probably a worse outcome) if the bloke stayed any longer, effectively convincing the man to scramble to his feet and excuse himself. With the rubbish thankfully showing itself out, he turned his attention back to the princess in concern. [color=85aabd]”Your Highness, are you awake? Can you hear me?”[/color] Anastasia’s eyes fluttered open slowly to the sound of a voice. For a moment or so, a thought could not proceed through her brain. Even the world around her was fuzzy as she stared forward above.. Her vision registered the stars twinkling above over time as well as the overwhelming feeling of illness. Her heart was still racing yet she was too exhausted to panic or to even move. She did not know where she was nor could she register much feeling to her skin. However, she could certainly feel awful in other ways. In fact, she felt so awful that she could only assume these were her final moments. She felt as if someone was banging her head with a bat over and over. Her stomach was so upset she felt if she had any energy she might cough up all her organs. Then there was the strong urge to shut her eyes. Would she ever open them again if she did? Tears spilled from her eyes soundlessly. A thought crossed her mind that hurt worse than anything else she was feeling: no one would even remember her. If she hadn’t mattered in life, why would she matter in death? She supposed even that idea did not matter. Soon she would be gone. As she let her head tilt to the side, a face moved into her vision. A… beautiful one. At first, she thought it was an angel. The voice from before came into memory as the face started to take shape. [i]Wystan[/i]. She suddenly felt a sense of comfort and … perhaps even happiness. Maybe she was already gone. She stared at him for a moment and then through the pain and exhaustion, she managed a weak smile. Anastasia weakly raised a hand to cup his cheek. Then darkness returned to consume her vision as her consciousness slipped back into the void. Her hand would fall limp from his cheek as she passed out once again. [color=85aabd]”Your– Your Highness.”[/color] Wystan shook her very lightly, keeping a tight leash on his quickly increasing concern as best as he could so as to stay calm and in control. Still, there was no response. [color=85aabd]”Your Royal Highness!"[/color] There needed to be a response. Now, he was alarmed because he needed her to stay conscious. Immediately, his hand shot up to hers to keep her palm resting on his cheek. [color=85aabd]”Princess, stay with me.”[/color] Goosebumps spiked his skin, realizing her skin felt abnormally chilly. Nothing like the warmth he had known the princess so well for. Pressing it to his face, he tried desperately to warm the princess’ hand as he kept the rest of her steady. The circumstances were dire, and even though his heart began to race a hundred miles per minute, he could not let himself panic. [color=85aabd]”Ana, if you can hear me... Everything will be okay.”[/color] He whispered gently to her, his thumb stroking the back of her hand slowly. Whether he knew he was speaking into the air or perhaps trying to comfort himself, nobody would know for sure. [color=85aabd]”...Alright? You will be okay. You’re with me now, and nobody can hurt you. I will not allow it.”[/color] Some time would pass while he brought her to the cargo to lay her down to rest, carefully wrapping his cloak around her to allow her to stay warm. Dusk followed them in turn with Callum safely nestled atop her back, whinnying to get Wystan’s attention for something else that seemed to follow. Expecting the worst, the watchdog clicked his tongue as he heard the sound of carriages drawing near. Perhaps news of there being nobles present spread fast. It would be no surprise to him that looters and mercenaries would come for such an opportunity ripe for the picking, especially when said nobles were inebriated as a result of drinking themselves to kingdom come. However, when he turned around ready to unsheathe his weapons, the sight of the carriages in question brought him down to one knee almost several seconds after an unexpected realization. [i]These carriages were no mercenaries’ after all.[/i] Adorned in yellow and blue, the Danrose banners flew viciously in the wind as the horses sped closer and closer to the warehouse’s location. The Royal family's crest grew clearer in sight, and with the regalia embossed on each knight's armor, the bodyguard had no more room left for doubt about who this could be. There was a sigh of relief in his heart. For tonight, it seemed retribution had come early. On one bent knee, he would speak respectfully under his breath as he awaited her, while keeping the prince and princess safely by his side. [center][color=85aabd][i]“Your Majesty.”[/i][/color][/center][/indent]