The dawn arrives alongside the waking coos of the mourning doves and an airy song by the jays in the forest. Armen was seated at the edge of his cot, same as he had throughout the night. Clad within his armor still, stained with blood. He clasped his hands together as he leaned his elbows upon his knees. His eyes, bloodshot and weary, look at the toes of his boots. Noting the now rich brown of coagulated blood that stained it. He sniffs idly, absentminded.

  Armen brings his head up as he hears a gentle rapping at the door. Enters Mariette, her voice quiet as usual, "Sir Armen? Art thou awake?"

  "Aye, sister. I was unable to sleep. I was waiting for ye to rise this morn. Art thou prepared to depart?"

  "Couldn't sleep? What troubled ye?" she echoes, even though she could hardly sleep any herself, and likely already knew what he was restless from. However, Armen doesn't answer her, instead he simply stands and adorns his satchel. "Is the horse tackled?"

  Mariette shakes her head, "Nay."

  Armen steps past her and through the door, beckoning her to follow. "Well then let's get him saddled so we might depart. I assume the tack is in the stables, yes?" though, he doesn't wait for her reply, instead striding away to the stairs.

  Mariette brings herself to a light trot to come and join his side as he leaves through the church doors and treads through the yard to the stables.

  Arriving at the shoddy housing, Armen finds the saddle, girdle, bit, and other tack draped from hooks in the wall. He saddles the old farm horse, a rouncey, and an older one at that. Armen, after cinching the strap under its belly, asks toward Mariette, "Prepared to depart? Is there anything that you might need? Food? Money? Once we are gone, I have no intention of returning until after mine business is concluded at the post."

  Mariette shakes her head as he lists off the items that she might have needed, replying with a light demeanor, "No, I am fully prepared to depart. I know the road there very well and am eager to guide thee." She lies, not looking higher than her feet as she holds her hands together at her waist and fights the urge to rock to and fro on her toes. Despite the tumultuous grievance of the prior day, she had to admit unto herself that she was excited, if not anxious as well. She had never strayed very far beyond the tree line, and now here she was, about to embark on a journey. As Armen continues to check the reigns and saddle, Mariette scolds herself in her mind, "You should be ashamed of yourself. LYING? Truly? How might you tell this man whose necessity is of dire importance and you lie so that you might traipse around the land? Such foolishness! Howe're, You do know the road goes directly to the village to the west. At least, according to the farmer that deliver us grain -Always rambling, that man is..."

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Mariette!" Her thoughts are quickly shuttered away as she hears Armen call at her, "Art thou truly awake? What consumes you so? You stand there in torpor; I've called you twice now. It's time to leave." extending his hand to her so she might take it for assistance onto the horse.

  "Oh, goodness me! I am sorry. Of course, let us go." She chirps, wagging her hands in the air to shoo away irrelevant thoughts. She comes near Armen and takes his hand delicately while he helps her up into the saddle. Then he grabs the reign of the horse and begins leading it from his stall and to the pathway that crosses in front of the church.

  "Sister, now that we are off, you must give me directions as we travel." he remarks up to her. Mariette looks down at him, confused as to why he leads the horse so far out from the stables before he joins her on its back.

  "Sir Armen... If I may ask... Why do you continue to lead the horse? Would it not be easier to ride if you, well, actually rode the steed?"

  Armen halts the reigns at the edge of the dirt path and looks up to her as he answers. "Sister, I do not intend to ride the horse, he is for your ease in our journey, not mine."

  Mariette's snout crinkles in confusion, "Then, why hath ye requested a horse at all if you've no intention of using it? Come up here, it's quite elating." she demands as she scoots herself off the rear of the saddle, patting the empty space to beckon him up.

  "Thank you, sister, but I fear it is mote improper of me. I do not wish to sit so near to you, and I shan't deny you any available comfort in our travels. After all, thou art here by my request." As Armen looks back to the dirt trail in front of them, he believes he barely catches a look of apparent hurt that flashes on Mariette's face. He cocks an eyebrow as he focuses back upon the path that stretches beyond either side of them, flowing with the ground until it became obscured in trees or hills.

  "Mariette... Which direction are we to go?"

  "Hmm? Oh! Yes: right. Go right and follow this trail here." she answers with a pointing hand.