Of Rattles & Rigs
THE Tawny Swan The dawn had not yet come on their third day of travel. A rush of what seemed like chilly hands wrapped over Halycind's shoulders as she walked the promenade of The Tawny Swan. She was taking little happy sniffs of Siin's rose. Smiling alone. She hadn’t talked much with her cabinmate as he’d been with Percival being school of bits about magecraft and discussing boring Villa details. So much of him had been new to her now and she was a bit thankful she’d had room to breathe from her insatiable wants of him. But she did think of him a lot. Enough to get used to the idea of him becoming a powerful mage. She was not wearing her wildergear correctly, but she didn't care. The brigandine was the heaviest piece with its rigs and gadgets and whatnot, so it hung open at four of it
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