[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine enjoyed this new game of polling on horseback. He tried to imagine how it might have been thought up. Some victorious and bored horsemen maybe used their swordflats to knock around an orc head. Eodwine swallowed. Enough of that kind of thinking. He'd done his share of killing in battle, but did not care to think on the more grisly aspects.

"Any riders of special talent?" Saeryn asked.

"Oh, some, yes," Eodwine replied. Then he did a double take. "What are you doing -" There she stood, leaning on the rail beside him, her bright hair flowing, dressed in a lovely scarlet gown that heightened the mystery of her. Eodwine forced his eyes back to the horsemanship. "- I mean," he smirked, "so you've put away your drudgery for the day?"

"For now at least."

He knew why she'd come. The dream. Eodwine allowed a half smile on the side of his face she couldn't see. He wasn't ready to open that up. Let her ask. They watched the horses and riders for a while. Eodwine for his part did not want to break the silence. He had his seal to think on. He thought of asking Saeryn what she thought, but decided against it; he wanted to do more thinking on it first. Figure out the cat head on a falcon body. He waited for the inevitable, curious how she'd approach it, laughing inside a little in anticipation. He hoped she wouldn't be disappointed or put off. Just because it might be an off-putting dream to, well, anyone.