The Tourney at Ashford

Davelyn had decided after the events of the morning that he wanted some time out in the meadow with Qitam. At the moment, rather than riding with the horse, he seems to be playing a game with him instead. One where they chase and tag each other. Clearly the horse is faster and having an easy time of it, but he seemed to be having fun with interspersed braying that sounds almost like laughter.

Wylla would embrace the clear day happily. She'd spent quite a bit of time the past few days upon horseback, but with her travels she was fairly used to it. Her palfrey, Nimea, would be led by a thin rope firmly held in an older man's hand as Wylla took in the cool atmosphere of the fine day. He remained mostly silently, though his eyes fell to Davelyn and his antics, as Wylla's ear twitched curiously, turning her head. Before she could even invoke her curiosity, her retainer would shake his head. He was well-weathered, though his age did not make him appear any less fearsome, a longsword placed along his belt.

"It is merely a young man, enjoying the bond of a well ridden steed, my lady. Nothing of great import."

Walder followed, a small distance away, his eyes alert and scanning the meadows. He locked them onto the dornishman as he noticed him.

Eventually tiring out a bit from playing tag with a horse, Davelyn stopped and leaned against his mount. "You win as usual Qitam. Are you ever going to let me win?"

Finally spotting the others in the field, Davelyn smiled in their direction. He began approaching, not saying a word to Qitam, but the horse automatically following. Once he was an appropriate distance away, he greeted them all with a smile. "Milady, sers. A pleasure to make your acquaintance on this fine day."

Clicking his tongue and tapping Qitam on the shoulder, he lowered himself into a bow... and the horse did the same following Davelyn's lead.

"I am Ser Davelyn Sand, sworn knight of Cedric Kellington."

They rose together as well.

The old man would clearly restrain a sigh, as Wylla's smile brightened a bit, nodding her head somewhat atop her small horse. The old man would make a slight bow to his junior, as his charge spoke somewhat eagerly. She'd keep her hands steady onto the palfrey's holds, straightening up to seem another inch taller, not that it helped much.

"Well met. I am Wylla, daughter of Terrick. I have heard great things of our cousins in Kellington, it will be an experience to meet more of your ilk. This is my attendant, and my sword friend and guard."

"Gouren Pyke, sword blade and mentor to the fine lady. Your training of the steed is remarkable, as are your manners. We appreciate the display."

Walder catched up to his other two party members, bowing slightly to the young knight. His eyes were tired, beneath them were dark bags displaying clear signs of sleeplessness and annoyance.
"Walder Rivers. Bodyguard." He grunted a short introduction.

"Well, this is a great opportunity for me to get to know many more people from the north of Dorne. Lord Kellington will undoubtedly be looking forward to meeting the members of House Terrick as much as I." He pauses for a moment, looking at the palfrey.

"It is easy to train a horse when you grow up alongside it. I was there when Qitam was born. My aunt told me that he was to be a faithful companion for a long time, so I should be there for him as he would be there for me," he replies to the statement about the horse. "What is your steed's name milady?"

Wylla nodded as she listened to the southern man speak, stroking a hand down her palfrey's mane. It was gentle, caressing, and much like its mistress, this horse was clean and cared for. It had not run through many a harsh territory, and showed itself as a proper noble's mount. Almost as lovely and rich as the clothing Wylla wore.

"Her name is Nimea. One of the unexpected pleasures I had was learning to care for her."

"Well, I'm glad I've had the chance to meet you all this morning," he says happily. "If it wouldn't be an imposition, perhaps we could ride together and enjoy some conversation to go with the breeze in the air and warmth of the sun?"

Wylla thought for a moment as Gouren let off a small sigh. He'd take a hard look at the dornish man, before taking a step forward, denying Wylla the chance to speak for herself on this manner.

"Perhaps a small trot would be better. Her ladyship is not yet a fully experienced rider, as an observant man would take note of."

"Yes, of course," he says with a nod. "I didn't expect any faster than that, as that would make conversation quite difficult." It seemed painfully obvious to Davelyn that one couldn't have a real conversation while riding at speed. He wondered for a moment if her servant was daft.

Gouren would release the lead, as the palfrey rustled about a bit, moving to head forward on the trail, as the man would keep a bit back, keeping with Walder. Close enough to be imposing as a guard, but politely away from the pair. Wylla would hold on a bit more tightly than before, carefully holding the steady pace, letting the palfrey guide her a bit.

"You'll have to understand, he is somewhat protective."

"I understand completely. When I am on duty with those Lord Kellington asks me to watch over I'm very protective as well," he says with understanding. "And no matter how many people they stop and speak with or how kind a stranger seems, you cannot let down your sense for danger. The moment you do, you have failed your charge. I would never take offense at someone feeling the way I have for a charge."

Wylla paused for a moment, before letting out a laugh. It was a medley of delightful, girlish giggles, as she was unable to cover her mouth while holding onto her horse the way she wanted.

"Oh, you misunderstand. It is not you he is concerned for. If you tried to strike at me, the two of them would tear you to pieces the birds would find too small for a meal. No, Gouren fears I am going to ride into a tree, or get kicked off. I cannot steer my dear Nimea, not very well. She has better insight as to the road than I."

"Ahh, well. I'll be sure to keep an eye on the road so that Nimea doesn't find a pothole and we don't go near any trees or bushes," Davelyn says with a small chuckle. "You have excellent hearing milady. I never really got the sense you were looking elsewhere so you must have been able to track my movements."

"Such was one of my first skills. I was born without sight, and keeping a conversation requires one to share face with others. Nobody wishes to speak to one who seems to be interested in something else. It also is not hard to lose track of boots and hooves."

There was at least one more who thought that riding the hype of the high-profile happenstances out of the system felt like a stupendous idea. Tearing chunks of soaked soil out of the thawed ground Tymagon galloped, carrying gleefully laughing rider on his back.

"Not hard for you milady. But I'm sure not everyone has the patience and focus you've likely developed over years," he replies, looking out to see the other rider.

"What do you do for fun outside of strolls Lady Terrick?"

"I think you would find few of my house calling me patient. However..." The woman would grip the reigns a bit harder as she heard the laughter and galloping, making certain her own mount didn't over-react the same way she was, as she tilted her head a bit towards the sound. "I am often... rather busy."

"It is a gentleman running about the field on his mount. He's aware and in control," he says describing the scene to her.

"You can't be too busy for fun, can you? If so, I'll be forced to try to remedy that while we are here. Anyone who works hard deserves to have some time to play too," he says pleasantly. There's no suggestion in his voice.

Seeing polite conversations on horseback going on, Kevan pulled the reins, eventually convincing Tymagon to slow down. He inclined his head to the Dornishman and the northern lady with a cocked brow, then turned his steed for an approach.

"The other rider approaches, Lady Terrick," he says with a smile. As the newcomer approaches, Davelyn's warrior instincts kick in and he tenses up slightly in case the other man means harm. But he assumes not.

"Good afternoon," Davelyn says with a wave to the newcomer.

"I see, thank you."

The woman relaxed a bit, inclining her head back to her trotting partner, and smirking a little despite herself, and looking onto the rider, making a quick comment to Davelyn as she heard the horse close in, bowing her head slightly.

"Fun can be arranged. If you would like to hold any parcels, I would love to see what this city offers for goods and trade. The quality or product and the people behind them. But I warn you, it can be quite time consuming and burdensome. Even Walder has complained of my ventures. Well met, and well traveled these fields seem to be today."

"There is probably a reason or three for them to be well-travelled." Kevan gestured around, chuckling jokingly, not really knowing if her connected with the conversation correctly, but not caring too much either either way. "I wonder why all the nobles have chosen to congregate here. The general here." He teased as he patted Tymagon and straightened in the saddle, tapping his chin. "Kevan Dunn, Lord Commander's firstborn and heir."

"We'll have to do so," he answers to Wylla. "I am Ser Davelyn Sand, sworn knight of Lord Kellington. It's a pleasure." He smiled easily at the Dunn.