Sir Terrowin
Terrowin relaxed against the trunk of an oak tree a distance away from the game. The shade wore like a blanket around him as he squinted his eyes to the royal box. From far away he could not see the royals by face, but he did recall Aleiia. She was there, she just had to be- she was force to depart from him to arrive there.
Perhaps he should join the game, though he were afraid he shall fail for of his injuries. A faded black eye not fully healing, his fingers were still throbbing, and his former broken bones ached. It may be just his imagination of this pain, worry and panic. Yes, the suffering may exist because his mind creates it. It sure didn't feel the pain in presence with Aleiia at the garden.
Pain or not, he believed Aleiia would be disappointed if he never even attempted. But he was not only pondering of Aleiia but also his good friend, Pete.
"If you lose the princess, you lose a fortune. And when you lose that fortune how must you gift the poor?" he dreamt of Pete speaking to him.
He shook his head, he did not bear the knowing anymore. He loved Aleiia but not enough? Not enough causing him to only desire the throne instead. He was in stress and strain, confused and perhaps angry at himself. He rose up from the ground and marched over towards the other knights and other jousters.
"Oi!" he shouted aloud with a raise of his hand.
"I believe I can handle the next round."
Perhaps he should join the game, though he were afraid he shall fail for of his injuries. A faded black eye not fully healing, his fingers were still throbbing, and his former broken bones ached. It may be just his imagination of this pain, worry and panic. Yes, the suffering may exist because his mind creates it. It sure didn't feel the pain in presence with Aleiia at the garden.
Pain or not, he believed Aleiia would be disappointed if he never even attempted. But he was not only pondering of Aleiia but also his good friend, Pete.
"If you lose the princess, you lose a fortune. And when you lose that fortune how must you gift the poor?" he dreamt of Pete speaking to him.
He shook his head, he did not bear the knowing anymore. He loved Aleiia but not enough? Not enough causing him to only desire the throne instead. He was in stress and strain, confused and perhaps angry at himself. He rose up from the ground and marched over towards the other knights and other jousters.
"Oi!" he shouted aloud with a raise of his hand.
"I believe I can handle the next round."