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Farmgirl310

Wandering, but not lost
Princess Lynx-mor or simply known as Irene was the next heir to the thrown seeing as her parents failed at producing a male heir.
The lynx-mor reign over the kingdom was a rarity of sorts, their subjects frequently interacted with royals as they cared much about the health and economy of their kingdom.
Irene was never the “ princess type “. She drank to astonishing levels and was quite a messy drunk, she frequent pubs out of the kingdom to hide from disapproving parents and the public’s eye. Irene cursed like a sailor and could hold her own in a fight which would never be allowed of a princess.
In light of her situation she could play a very deceitful role as a “ perfect “ princess and faked her smiles and words with ease.. it simply bored her.
While traveling between pubs one night Irene felt as if she was being followed, now seeing as she was heavily intoxicated she nudged her steed forward .
The princess held dark secrets in her life she practiced dark arts as a voodo witch, also would be VERY bad in the public eye surly she would be put to death.
Was the thing following her a result of dark magic or would this turn into something greatly unexpected?
 
The frankly dimming night shadows all courses of extensive pulse, those of which are cumbersome to the bearing soil in question.
Being romantic in the conditions, one may simply assume said entities are mere fruits of labor; a cohort of laughably poor value in the mock caste system presented within the surrounding Earth.
Noah, after having enough of his affiliation with the recurring ‘revelation’, decides to wander the cracked streets as to shrug off the perception as perhaps a mere nuisance philosophy.
In the pink-tinted streetlamps, his silvering hair shines faintly and, to his surprise, reveals a swaying maiden of vibrant robes in their wake.
Her visage not as clear to him, nor anything of her front account for that matter, but the strong scent of alcohol wafting in fresh breezes towards him introduces a rather straightforward form of identification to say the least.
Noah finds the sight as an abrupt, perfectly-timed source of amusement of which he will not fail to juice the most out of.
Caught up in the impulsive mindset, the lone person accompanies her in his own secrecy... gradually narrowing the gap between them. He’s learned to chuckle quietly at times when she displays the excitement of a child at little bugs or gimmicks of all sorts.
For some odd reason, she warms his heart with her funny reactions, even if he could only witness her actions from behind with a lick of caution.

When tugging his hood to shield his head, Noah catches the girl trekking at a perilous distance right of a dark body of water, causing his whole body to become rigid;
His gaze alert.
Beads of sweat fomented by the circumstances map out on his throbbing forehead. Just how inebriated is she? She's going to suffocate in that abyss if she continues! is the immediate thought striking a chord within Noah. It sends him bolting towards the scene at full force.
His balance is a thin thread at the speed he chooses to approach the near-to-collapse girl. He, however, manages to halt at the side of a red-skinned mare to hastily grip her reins with the provided might of adrenaline.
He shifted his weight to the opposite of the raging shores, ensuring all of the steed's hooves are well away from the vicious blue creature and pacing the dry land.
When doing so, to his utter relief, he draws out a long sigh, the cord still firm in his clammy hands.
He turns to carry out a further inspection on the rider's appearance.
Flushed red and completely dazed.
But... she still is... He dismissed the growing thought when he heard a soft hiccup, realizing just how gravely drunk her holiness is.
 
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