[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zQXUPoA.png[/img]
[sub][@Psyker Landshark][/sub][/center]
She had allowed herself the privilege of a late morning that day. Not because the encounter with the Golden Boars had exhausted her, but simply because she had been riding for so long beforehand. No, it would be best to keep the Golden Boars out of her mind. They and theirs had been a disappointment, too similar to the bandits of that uncrowned ‘king’, ultimately unable to force any real challenge unto anyone.

She remained in a liminal, transitional space, unable to see where she stood. Unable to have something that caused the blood to properly boil, unable to find ferocity reciprocated in equal measure. It was strange, how her desires had become so malformed once she had joined the Order, once she surrounded herself with allies who were only her equals or were legends far out of reach.

Stranger still, that her enemies became ones who were either not worth the blood they spilt upon her steel, or whom her steel had no hopes of leaving a mark upon. Perhaps she should’ve hunted for a worthy head. Perhaps she should’ve left others to handle themselves in those battlefields. Perhaps…

Serenity withheld a sigh within the shade and heat of Candaeln’s forge. She inspected the buckler once more, checking for any dents or nicks, any flaws to fix up, but there weren’t any. Her sword had already been cared for, sharpened and oiled, while her armour only required some surface cleaning to remove the viscera. It was busywork, really. Even as someone who was proud of keeping her equipment in pristine condition after every fight, she understood that this was all just busywork. Something to take her mind off the strange sense of futility that had slipped into her mind over the past few weeks.

[i]What are you trying to be?[/i]

A knight.