You Gotta Fight For Your Right |
Summary: | Martyn lets off some steam. Darek plays target. Sela helps. Yvette, Nedra, and Nathaniel watch. |
Date: | 21/07/2012 |
Related Logs: | None directly, but the Martyn/Katrin/Rafferdy stuff in general. |
Players: |
Roost Lane, Terrick's Roost |
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This small lane winds around the west side of town and circles back on itself towards the end. Most of the people that come down to this area are looking specifically for one of the many fine craftsmen that have their shops along this well-kept dirt road. |
21 July, 289 |
Martyn nods a little at Nathaniel's words, nodding a bit. "I'll keep that in mind," he comments, without adding more. Coming to a stop as Nedra does, he pauses as he sees the person approaching. Offering a bit of a bow to the woman, as he sees who it is. "Lady Yvette. Good evening," he offers, before he looks between the two ladies now. "Lady Yvette Haigh, meet my dear cousin, Lady Nedra Mallister. Cousin, meet Lady Yvette Haigh," he offers. There, introductions done.
Nathaniel chuckles when Nedra mentions the apples, remembering his last encounter with the young lady and her mare who seemed to have an obsession with the crunchy delicacy. "She did, as did I. I've ridden in far worse, so this was enjoyable. The soggy ground actually poses a good challenge to a horse." He looks past the pair to the walking noble and her handmaiden. He frowns, but only in concentration while he squints again in hopes of identifying the newcomer. However, she is unfamiliar. Still, her dress marks her as a noble, and Nathaniel, as a commoner, is sure to offer a respectfulbow even though he is still in the saddle. "Good even, lady and mistress," he calls.
her attention shifting to the woman at Martyn's side now, Yvette offers the same in greeting to her as she did to Ser Martyn. "A pleasure, Lady Nedra, I'm certain." Her smile grows some in amusement, "There seem to be more of us Haighs and you Mallisters in the Roost than there are Terricks, in my experience! Though I'm sure that's just coincidence, of course." She turns to offer Nathaniel a brief smile in return for the greeting, before her gaze shifts once more to the mare standing beside Nedra, eyes taking an obvious interest, "That's a beautiful animal. Yours, I assume?"
Darek is preceded by music. It's a softly-skirling sigh of fiddle strings, a tired sort of sound, but also smooth, calming. Darek himself doesn't look so calm himself, his simple shirt darkened with sweat and his curling mop of hair glistening and twisting about his face. Despite the fact that he's breathing hard, he has a fiddle up to his chin, drawing the bow slowly and delicately across the strings. He spots the gathering of people and meanders in that direction, slowly getting his breath under control.
Nedra offers a curtsy in return as the introductions are made, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Yvette," she offers in return, rising after she speaks and smiling at the Haigh lady. "As many Haighs and Mallister and Erenford's as there are Terricks, i should think," she agrees with a smile. She nods then, "This beauty is Jinx, short for Hijinx, that is, and she's a clever one, to smart for her own good sometimes," she adds as the mare nudges her again then leans slightly forward, ever the trickster. "May I introduce you to Courier Corbitt?" she offers with a gesture toward Nathaniel, "One of the finest couriers I've ever know, swift and discrete," she adds with a smile up at Nathaniel. Her own guard is no more than a horse length behind, keeping his pace even wit theirs and a careful watch on the area.
"Well, we're more out and about than the Terricks, at least," Martyn offers after a few moments of pause. He otherwise keeps silent for the moment, looking between the others. And looking over in the direction of the fiddler as he hears the sound. Studying the young man rather carefully.
Like a barrel on four squat legs, the cart pony trots along with a kind of merriment that only the fattest of ponies can achieve. Seated on the old, weathered saddle is a hooded rider who bounces a bit like a novice with each jovial stride. The pony must be old, bearing scars from pulling a cart many of its long days, but it is reunited with its youth with such a light burden on its back. Sela Shale glances around as her squat mount guides her up the Lane toward the Tower's Green. The sound of music causes her head to turn in that direction, and she narrows her eyes curiously.
Yvette offers another small half-smile of amusment as she hears the horse's name. "A fitting name, it seems. Perhaps we could ride sometime? It is a favorite hobby of mine." As Nedra indicates him, her eyes turn towards Nathaniel, nodding, "We did meet briefly yesterday, when I arrived into the town. But a pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel, all the same." The sound of music distracts her momentarily from the pair of new acquaintences, looking instead briefly to the young fiddler.
Darek glances up from beneath a sweat-darkened curl that falls across his eyes as he nears the group of nobles, a cocky smirk touching his lips as their eyes turn towards him. His bow-hand twists and jolts, sending a introductory sting of music up into the air, 'zhah-zhah-zhah-zhah.' As the last note is wrung from the fiddle, the youth gives a deep bow from the waist, dropping his bow-hand to one side and his fiddle out to the others. He's nearly captured his breath, but he wipes at his forehead with his right sleeve as he straightens up, "Milord, Miladies. Quite the pleasant day, is it not?" Despite the fact that he's butted into a group, he adds, "Sorry to interrupt, but do either of you lovely ladies have a favorite song you'd like to hear?"
Nathaniel, from his saddle, once again looks down the road to that growing sound of music. The stout pony catches his eye even more, and he smiles at the sight. He glances to Yvette, and bows once more, "It's a pleasure, lady." Then he gives a bow to Martyn and Nedra before he comments, "I should take my leave so that you can enjoy your evening." His mare, as if in agreement. shifts her legs restlessly. "May you fare well," he salutes before turning his mare to resume his ride toward the green.
Nedra smiles at the fiddler, "I'm sure what ever you have in mind, song wise, will be lovely," she replies before glancing back at the lady Haigh, curiosity in her gaze, "Are you related to the lady Katrin?" she wonders, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side, allowing the curiosity to be conveyed in her tone of voice. "And Jinx really is the best at escaping things, things like locked stalls and fence gates," she adds with a grin. She spots the little pony and it's small rider, the curious look remaining in her eyes even as Nathaniel moves to take his leave, "Be well, Courier Corbitt," she calls in parting.
"Be well," Martyn offers to Nathaniel as well. But otherwise keeping silent for now, just listening to the others. His gaze also moves to the pony and the rider, but he keeps silent for now.
Yvette nods in confirmation as her attention returns to Nedra from the fiddler, her smile brightening some at Katrin's mention. "I am indeed, though I've been told our looks aren't so similar as to give that away at first glance. Katrin is a cousin to me." She then reaches out a hand, with just a slight bit of caution, to rub at the side of the mare's neck gently. "Is that so, Jinx? Perhaps you could teach my Lady a trick or too, than." Her eyes return to the mare's owner as she adds in an obviously sarcastic manner, "Maybe it's best to keep our two mares apart, in that case."
Sela's gaze follows after Nathaniel, as if keeping track of his departure. Her path allows her to come up beside the little gathering all the same. "The Minnow and the Trout," Sela announces as the fiddler asks for a request — though she is far from a noble lady. Well, perhaps closer than some, but she does not wear her bastard heritage on her sleeve nor the Westerling crest on her chest. She smiles to the fiddler beneath her hood, those stark and brilliant blue eyes as she looks up at him from her saddle — apparently the combination of pony and her own height does not rival his own. She bows her head a bit to the ladies and lords present before she turns her attention back on the squire.
Nedra laughs, "Oh I'm sure she'd be happy to teach your Lady a trick or two," she says with a grin. "We had to have the blacksmith contrive a lock that couldn't be pulled, tugged or slid apart, one that couldn't' be lifted or nudged. She's entirely too clever," she adds, smiling at her mare quite fondly, "and I love her to pieces," she admits with a glance back up. "I do see the resemblance just a bit, but it's like trying to sort out which Mallister any of us are," she explains. "See, I'm Ser Kamron's sister, not Martyn's," she nod at her cousin, "though I am entirely to short to be Muirenn, of course, though I do envy her for her height." She glances up to the slender slip of a thing balanced on the back of the pony, "Now that's a nice one, do you know how to play that one, fiddler?"
Darek smirks a bit more at Nedra's words to him as he straightens up from his bow, "Never heard of noble ladies not knowing just what they want." The words seem to be directed inward, a bit of amusement just for himself, but they're certainly loud enough for those about him to hear. And as Martyn and Yvette mostly ignore him, he turns his attention to Sela when she speaks up, pointing the bow at her, and then Nedra "That one I know," there's a pause as he studies the hooded woman, and he settles on, "Li'l Miss." At least he tosses a wink at the end of it. The young man takes up a stance, wide-legged, tilted back a bit dramatically. He raises up his bow to the strings of his worn and battered fiddle, and then it's moving, sawing quickly back and forth to make a sort of burbling, liquid sound very much like a stream over a rocky course.
Having bade his farewells, Nathaniel turns his mare back onto the lane, although when the rider of that pony calls her request, he pauses to look back as if almost recognizing something, the voice, perhaps. Still, he shrugs and moves continues his leisurely ride.
Yvette falls quiet for now, offering Lady Nedra a grin in amusement for another moment before turning her attention more fully to the young musician as he begins to play once again.
"Just as tricky as her owner," Martyn comments a bit lightly at the mention of Nedra's horse. Keeping his words quiet for now, before he looks over to Sela as he hears the request for a song. "A good one, young one," he offers, with a bit of a smile. Otherwise, it's back to being silent now, listening to the others at the moment.
<FS3> Sela rolls Singing: Failure.
<FS3> Darek rolls Fiddle: Great Success.
Sela actually beams to the fiddler as he starts to play the burbling, bubbling tune. She hums along with it, a shy little voice trying to sing along with the familiar flow of the music. "//Help me out… said the minnow to the trout…" As she sings a bit out of sync and even a bit more out of tune, she returns to humming along. Her squat pony releases a sudden snort as if informing the girl she doesn't know what she's doing and to stick to what she does best.
Nedra laughs lightly as the fiddler takes up his bow and begins to play the tune, one that Nedra isn't immediately familiar with but she listens to it, the half smile playing along her lips. The singing of the young girl sitting atop the pony makes her glance in that direction, not at all dismayed by the singing or the humming, and after a bit Nedra starts tapping the toe of one boot against the muddy ground in time with the music.
Darek takes a breath in the music, just long enough to toss the locks of hair from his face and grin up at those actually paying attention to him now. "I'm Darek Boldt. I'm Jac Caddock's squire. If you haven't heard of me yet, you will." And then the stream flows onward, and he actually manages to fold the rippling, flowing, bouncing music around Sela's attempt to sing. The song follows on after she quiets down again, lasting another minute, two, and then slowly, ever-so-slowly, drying up.
One can never dislike some fine music, right? Martyn's hand taps against his side as he listens to the music now, unable to hold back a bit of a smile as he listens. Looking between all the others for the moment.
"Didn't we just?" Sela asks the squire as he proclaims they will hear about him. The little slip of a thief grins toward him before she sweeps out of her saddle — if she cannot ride all that well, she sure can dismount with grace and agility. She sweeps aside her hood, giving her dark oak-colored hair a gentle toss. She takes a few moments to consider her proper course of action, and then she gives an awkward, skirtless curtsey. "Miladies, milords." She hesitates. "I'm Sela Sha—, wait no… Hill? Da-daughter to… to… Ser Garett Westerling." Her stutter could almost be confused for lying if she didn't look so awkward saying the truth.
Yvette doesn't recognize the tune, but seems to enjoy the fiddling and singing all the same. Must be some commoner's tune, she concludes mentally. Although she is made to reconsider that assumption as the young man introduces himself. She brings her hands together in light applause as the music dies out, a bright smile coming back to her lips. Afterwards, her eyes follow the young woman as she climbs to the ground, trying to only a mild degree of success to hide her surprise when Sela introduces herself.
Nedra smiles as she steps forward, "You're Sela?" she asks, extending both hands to the girl, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hill," she offers, and should Sela allow she'll offer a brief but kind hand clasp. "Your father is a good friend to my brother Kamron," she adds by way of explanation. "I'm Lady Nedra Mallister," she adds once she releases Sela's hands. "This is Lady Yvette Haigh," she says with a gesture toward Yvette, "and my cousin Ser Martyn Mallister," and around to the fiddler/squire. "I hadn't heard of you until now, but now that I have, I'm sure I'll remember," she promises with a quick glimpse of a grin.
Darek nods his head at Sela's words even as he finishes the song up. When he draws bow from strings again, he drops into another bow, folding down from the waist and then straightening up once more, "Now you've heard of me indeed, Miladies, Milord, Miss Hill. And since none of you had before, you will again. From someone besides me." He tucks his bow in with his fiddle-hand, scrubbing his hair out of his eyes and looking to Martyn, "You know, there are a damned lot of pretty girls in the Cape, Milord. I'd've come up sooner if I'd known." And he winks at the noble ladies and noble bastard. He winks.
Pausing for a few moments as he hears the girl's name, and the name of her father, Martyn looks from Yvette to Nedra for a few moments, to see their reactions. He then looks over at Darek, pausing a bit at his words. "Well, haven't the words about the women here reached… wherever it is that you're from, Squire Boldt?" he offers, with a bit of a grin. "That's really a shame, after all."
Quickly, Sela wipes her hands on her loose breeches, trying to clean the bit of sweat and dirt from her palms before she tentatively takes the hands offered to her. It is obvious she has no idea what she is suppose to do once she takes the hands; she squeezes them, hoping that its the proper course. That done, she releases a little smile. "Kamron… Mallister," she repeats, as if trying to make sure she pieces it together. She smiles a bit. "It is… good to meet you, Lady Nedra… Ser Martyn." She dry washes her hands a moment as she glances toward Yvette.
Yvette forces an apparently well-practiced smile in greeting to the young woman, along with a slight nod of her head. But the coolness, or perhaps simple confusion, is quite obvious in her tone. "A pleasure, Sela Hill. If what you say is true, than your Lord father is quite close with one of my relatives as well. Small world, I suppose." Her smile seems to become slightly more genuine at that, seemingly in amusement with herself.
Darek trails his fingers through that luxurious fall of hair again, holding it back for a long moment as he settles in on Martyn, "Stone Hedge. My Ma's a barmaid there." Whoops, guess he's just dirt-common. "Hasn't spread so far, nope, Milord. It should. Maybe I'll write a song about 'em." As he speaks, he wanders around to stand next to Martyn, "Too bad about that one with a burn, you know. She would've been good enough to go to sleep thinking about." He grins crookedly, adding sotto voce, "if you know what I mean." Well, now everyone present knows why he was just running around the Keep — his mouth write checks his body can't cash.
Nedra gives a warm smile to Sela, the gentle squeeze of a handclasp being the exact response, and releases Sela's hands just as gently. "And how are you enjoying The Roost?" she wonders at Sela as the Squire's words make her laugh just a little, shaking her head as Martyn encourages the Squire/Fiddler to continue along in that vein. Yvette's words make Nedra turn curiously, "Indeed? Well, it is a small world then, and a happy one at that, to find more relatives as one moves through life, I should think. After all, family is one of the blessings of the Seven." She pauses then gives up and just has to say it, "That and the saying that suggests that Friends are god's apology for the necessity of family," she adds, speaking the words lightly and laughing a bit at the end. "The one with the burn?" she wonders at Squire Boldt.
"Lady Briallyn," Sela offers, as if the verification is required. "And yes, I think they are close." Though she says this with a genuine earnesty, even if it could have been said in sarcasm. She glances idly toward Darek at his words, and she clears her throat a bit as if trying to warn him on his flow of conversation. Then she looks back toward the other noble ladies. "It is not that different from Flint's Finger, Milady, but I an unaccustomed to the ocean sounds. They tend to keep me up at night."
<FS3> Martyn rolls Unarmed': Failure.
After seem time, Nathaniel retraces his steps, after a fashion, although now on foot. He spies the party still gathered beeside the road, and approaches slowly as if he's uncertain about the state of things.
Pausing as he hears what the squire said, Martyn's expression darkens a bit now, and he suddenly swings in an attempt to punch the young man. "Perhaps you should be careful about what you say…" he growls in his direction now. Looking a bit more angry now.
<FS3> Darek rolls Unarmed: Success.
Yvette stares with a calculating look for a long moment at the young girl, trying to gauge whether or not she was, in fact, being sarcastic. She is distracted, however, as she hears the young squires words with Martyn, giving an almost pitiful look towards the Mallister. It seems she is not half as confused on the young man's meaning as Nedra was. Her mouth opens to speak as Martyn's face darkens with anger, but soon closes again, words failing her for the situation.
Darek starts to turn toward Nedra, "Gorgeous Lady. Short hair," His right hand rises up to gesture just above his shoulder, and then the punch comes in, and he sways backwards, the punch going sweeping past his nose as he dances back, looking surprised despite his instinctive reaction that has him balling up his right hand ready to punch back. He glances over at it, then blinks and lowers his fist, "Sorry Milord. Did I say something wrong? I'm just saying the lady… um… Haigh? She's a very beautiful woman." The young man's eyes are a bit wide, showing white all around them, and he glances over to Nedra, Yvette, and Sela, "Didja see that, by the way?" And he ducks back again, as if dodging another punch.
Nedra makes the connection, a bit belatedly, and her eyes widen, "Lady Briallyn and Ser Garret were wed at the end of the tournament," she recalls aloud, giving another nod to accompany her words. "Goodness," and she glances at Yvette again, "extended family indeed," she remarks. She reaches out one hand to Jinx, soothing her palm along the mare's neck as her horse makes a sniff of sound and tugs up more grass from that mud at their feet, she spots Nathaniel returning and smile a greeting in his direction before being almost immediately distracted by Martyn. The tone of voice she hears from Martyn has her turning in time to see the dark expression upon his face and the abrupt shift to pugilistic confrontation. "Martyn!" she gasps out, her voice shocked.
Nathaniel might have been uncertain about the situation, but Martyn's swing at the squire settles that question even from afar. The young man shifts into a trot toward the group. "What's this?" he questions urgently.
<FS3> Martyn rolls Unarmed: Success.
<FS3> Sela rolls Unarmed: Good Success.
<FS3> Darek rolls Unarmed: Great Success.
<FS3> Darek rolls Unarmed: Good Success.
It seems that there's some frustration and anger, filled in a bottle named Martyn that seems to have been shaken up for a while, before Darek's unfortunate comment uncorked the bottle now, so to speak, for the knight tries to swing for the fiddling squire again, this time perhaps a bit more accurate now. "You be more mindful of what you say, boy," he growls in Darek's direction now.
It is abrupt how swift and silent the little Hill girl moves, and she is grasping for the Squire by his vest as if to reign him back. Her grasp is not tense enough to actually pull him out of the incoming attack. It is evident that Sela is here to clue the young squire in. "You are talking about his Lady, Squire!" She manages to snap even as the boy dodges the next attempt to break his nose.
Yvette seems amused by the young lady's words and actions, despite the way she regarded her just moments before. His lady? She has to break a small and brief smile at such talk of her cousin, even with the tense situation at hand. Quickly returning to a more serious air, her eyes dart about between Sela, Martyn, and Darek. She and her handmaiden take a couple of steps backwards, and Yvette looks over towards the Lady Mallister with obvious concern now touching her features, though she says nothing and her gaze returns to the fight after just a moment with interest.
Darek starts to duck down away from this second swing, "Shit!" Probably shouldn't say that in front of noble women. And then his vest is being grabbed by the sneaky woman, and his dodge is interrupted, Martyn's fist glancing off the front of Darek's right shoulder. "Ow!" And his right fist balls up again, starting to cock back, "Why you holdin' me? I didn't hit anyone!" He tries to shake off the smaller woman from behind him, "I said I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I was saying she's pretty. Beautiful!"
The sound of cry and fury is just what Jinx was waiting for, the mare doesn't seem to particularly like loud noises or the crush of people, and the punching and raised voices causes the mare to jerk her head up abruptly, the reins tearing along Nedra's palm. Nedra makes a gasp of sound, the sudden burst of pain more surprising her than anything else, then backs up a step when Jinx bucks upward a bit, backing up and almost tugging the reins from Nedra's hand entirely. The mare's eyes are wide, nostrils flared, scenting the air, ears swiveling forward and back in short jerks of movement, and she rears again, trying to tear herself free. "Jinx," Nedra says, trying to calm the mare as she equally tries to avoid the threat of hooves, knowing full well that Jinx doesn't like to step on people - they're squishy under foot, of course, and usually noisy while being squishy under foot. She continues to struggle even as her guard is down from his horse and trying - with equal caution - to approach in a manner that won't spook the horse further. For the moment Nedra has to set aside the altercation and trust Martyn to not completely slip his own temper strings.
<FS3> Nathaniel rolls Animal Handling: Good Success.
Nathaniel sees the swing from Martyn, then the pounce from Sela, and finally Jinx's attempt to bolt catches his attention. He darts forward and snatches at the mare's reins after she is free from Nedra's grasp. He struggles to calm the chestnut, both with tugs at the rein itself, and with quiet, soothing words. "Steady, girl! Steady!"
<FS3> Martyn rolls Unarmed: Success.
<FS3> Sela rolls Unarmed: Good Success.
<FS3> Darek rolls Unarmed: Great Success.
<FS3> Sela rolls Acrobatics: Good Success.
"Well, be more careful about how you say such things in the future, for that was disrespectful," Martyn says, attempting to punch the squire again. Seems that he's so caught up in his bad temper that he hasn't paid any attention to Jinx and the attempted jinxing of this entire situation.
Darek darts his eyes over to the errant horse, but he has to keep his attention on the two people wrangling him. Rolling his shoulders hard, he pulls his vest from Sela's hands, actually stepping directly into Martyn's punch. There's an almighty SMACK of fist on jaw, and Darek rocks backward, his head snapping over to his right shoulder. The impact forces his eyes closed, and then he opens them up, stretching his jaw and then reaching up to rub at it. His voice is thick with pain and impact when he speaks up, "That help, Milord?"
Yvette reaches a hand up to cover her mouth in shock as the sound of knuckles on flesh fills the air, which also covers the hint of a smile that comes to her lips afterwards. Still, any amusement is gone as her hand comes back down, watching Martyn's reaction rather anxiously with widened eyes.
"Because I'm common," Sela hisses against those righteous curls of the fiddler. "Can we talk about this later?" She attempts to pull the squire out of harm's way, but the rough roll of his shoulders forcefully shrugs her off. It appears as though she is about to hit the ground in a painful sprawl, but a free-runner's instinct curls her body into a backward roll with one leg extended to guide her back onto her feet with controlled grace. She looks up quickly to see the aftermath of the punch.
Between Nathaniel's help, Nedra's words and the assistance of Nedra's guard Petyr, they succeed in calming the mare enough so that she stops trying to buck upward and lash out with those hooves. Nedra is not the only one who carries apples tuck into a pocket in her cloak and Petyr gives a sharp whistle to get Nedra's attention before tossing her the apple. She catches it with one hand then turns the apple until it's resting on the palm of her hand and approaches carefully, speaking in a soft voice. "That's my girl, that's it, calm down my sweet, steady," she keeps up a soft stream of words, her voice blending with Nathaniel's as they soothe the frightened mare until the chestnut mare lowers her head slowly - ears still twitching, pawing at the ground with one hoof over and over again - and sniffs at the apple that is being offered up. Jinx doesn't take it right away, greedy as she usually is, but sniffs again, head shaking, tossing her mane from side to side, long tail swishing restlessly in a sweeping arc. Nedra doesn't dare look away, one wrong move here can mean squishy human time.
<FS3> Sela rolls Sleight Of Hand: Failure.
Nathaniel grips the reins tightly in one hand, but does not tug. Instead, with the other hand, he reaches up to stroke the mare's long neck and he continues to whisper low, calming words. "Easy. Easy does it. "You're safe, Jinx." He glances to Nedra, and grins. "Here comes a sweet for the sweet." His fingers flex around the rein and he eases his hand up toward the bridle.
He doesn't answer Darek now. And there's no looks back towards the others. Instead Martyn just heads off towards the drection of the Green, wordlessly. Not even a proper goodbye at the moment. If anyone's able to see his face, the expression is rather stony at the moment, as he just walks off, rather hurriedly.
Yvette follows Martyn off with her gaze, and considers for a moment following after him to offer consolation, but thinks better of trying to talk to him in his current state and stays put. She looks about to all those gathered on the nighttime street, but seems a bit too stunned to say anything to anybody for the time being. Seeing street brawls is not a regular occurence in every young noblewoman's life, apparently.
Jinx gives another toss of her head but she seems to still a bit more once Nathaniel has a good hold on the bridle, those large eyes rolling from human face to human face, another swivel of those ears (one brown, one white) and she sniffs again at the apple with a large breath of air before she daintily noses at the apple then nips it from Nedra's palm and crunches on it noisly. By the time the apple is consumed the chestnut colored mare is leaning forward again, soft nose and muzzle resting against Nedra's shoulder though she keeps turning her head and nosing-sniffing at Nathaniel. Nedra's guard gets a secondary lead out and ties it to the bridle, "My lady, I believe it's best if I take her to the stables now, she's had enough exercise and excitement for one day," the gray haired guard says, patting the mare on the shoulder with a gentle hand before making a click of sound to get the mare's attention and prepares to lead Jinx away. "I'd best go with," Nedra replies, staring after Martyn with a worried frown and turning slightly toward Yvette, Yvette's entourage, Sela and Darek, "I do apologize, I promise my cousin is not normally so short tempered," she says with her best attempt at a smile. "But I really must go and see that Jinx is properly settled," she adds, reluctant to send Jinx off without making sure that her mare is brushed and groomed to her specifications. "I do hope to see you again under, hmm, less.. strained circumstances," she adds before glancing at Nathaniel, "and thank you," she says softly, fervently, "for your help."
Darek watches Martyn warily for a long moment, and when the nobleman turns about to walk away, he looks over to Yvette and Sela, "Didja see that?" He rubs at his jaw, "Ow." He keeps his voice quiet, glancing over to the antsy horse, "Everything going to be alright over there?" When Nedra speaks to him, he smiles — and then winces — "That Lord's got a punch like a kick of a mule. Hope you're not too put out, Milady. I'll play you somethin' later." There's a grimace, "And once my chin'll tuck to a fiddle again."
Annoyance flashes on the little bastard's face, and she dusts a bit of dirt off her breeches in the aftermath of her roll. She glances to the fat pony who does not look at all perturbed by the recent events, gnawing on a bit of dead grass. As the Squire turns his attention on the noblewomen, Sela steps back toward her stout steed, reaching out to ruffing his wiry beige mane. She snatches up the reins, starting to lead the merry creature back along the lane. "Yes. I saw it," she grunts to herself.
Trying her best to return from all the excitement to the demure of nobility, Yvette turns to dip her head politely to Nedra as she speaks, as much of a smile as she can muster coming to her lips. "Mmm, yes. I will likely return to the Inn soon, myself. It has gotten quite late, amidst all the excitement." She seems a bit unsure what to say next, and pauses for thought, "It was a…A pleasure meeting you, Lady Nedra. And yes, I do know your Lord Cousin for…A usually gentler man, I suppose?" She pauses at this, hoping not to have offended the Mallister. Regardless, she continues, offering a smile once more, "But we'll have to meet again some time, surely. A good night to you, Lady Nedra." She turns her head to give a pensive look to her lady-in-waiting a few moments after she speaks.
Nathaniel sighs when the mare begins to calm ever so slowly. He holds the reins firmly until the guard has that second tie ready, and then hands them off to the guard, confident that she now can control the spunky beast. He bows to Nedra, and answers, in the same quietness, "You're quite welcome, lady." Then he surveys the area. He peers off to the side when Sela goes to her barrel with legs, and then follows after her. "Are you injured?" he asks, concerned now for her. "If you're heading back to the Roost, I'll walk with you."
Martyn is still making his way away from the people now, back in the general direction of the Four Eagles Tower. But if that is indeed where he's going at the moment, who can relly know?
Aaaaand the noblewoman ignores him. Darek tosses up his hands (despite one still being filled with fiddle and bow) and moves to follow after Sela. And then Nathaniel's already at her side, and he throws up his hands again, grumbling under his breath, "Fuck a duck." And then he's headed back off in another direction altogether, tucking his fiddle under his chin with a hiss of pain. Before he's more than a dozen steps away from the group, he's sawing hard at his fiddle with his bow, a harsh, fast, aggressively screeching torrent of sound.
"I'm not injured," Sela says, though her voice has that teenage girl's mope to it. At that awful sound of the fiddle, she casts her gaze toward Darek. She narrows her eyes at him as if there is a touch of disdain there. She glances back toward Nathaniel, and she shrugs her shoulders. "You can walk with me if you like," she offers. There is a momentary pause before she comments, "He was so stupid."
Yvette feels suddenly out of place, with the dispersing of the two Mallisters. She gives a wave to her handmaiden. "We should be back to the inn. It has gotten almost indecently late. A good night to all of you." She says simply, turning to make her way down the lane.