(514-02-07) Garlands and a Kiss
Summary: Rainy Imbolc continued: Glaw and Gwynaelle take a round of dancing and exchange garlands, a kiss, and much in the way of teasing.
Date: February 7, 514
Related: Proceeded immediately by Rainy Imbolc.
glaw gwynaelle 

Dancing with Gwyn. Around the balefires and with switching partners a few times, only to be twirled back together. That is how it goes, right? The upside? No talking about omens, visions and garlands. The downside? You can only keep this up for so long before you are huffing, puffing and have to stop. Glaw grins, when he finally tries to tug her "off" the main dancing ruckus, closer to the tents of his family, fishing for a wineskin from one of the young-ones to offer to her. "Enough. I surrender.", he quips, grinning at the woman. Is there a faint roll of thunder in the distance? Surely the prophecy was true, and soon rain will begin to fall. Not that Glaw seems to mind the prospect of being cooled off a little, at least.

Round and round the bonfire, dancing and stomping, and laughing. That's Gwynaelle, at least. Flushed of face with her hair sticking to her skin, by the time he begins to tug her aside, she's more than ready to take a break! The promise of a drink of wine, and the cooler breeze that has kicked up with the coming storm that looms over them now, makes it all the better now that they've warmed themselves up good dancing! "Surrender? I'll have to remember this in the future.." Slipping her arm through his as they walk closer to his family's tents, she steals the wineskin to take a sip, sure to offer it back to him once she's downed a few swallows.

Glaw gives her a look as she stores away his "weakness" for later. "Carefully, Gwyn. A battle tactic or ruse is not liable to work twice on the same opponent.", he tells her, smirking, before he accepts both her arm entwined with his, and then the wineskin to take a deep draw from it or two, before he offers it back or caps it closed, if she refuses. The tents are nearby, and he soon will pull back a flap to let he step inside, leaving the flap open, of course, but giving them some privacy to talk, perhaps. Oh, Glaw knows it will come, that talk, but out of earshot would be his preference.

"Oh, yes, it may not work again, but if given time to forget…" Gwynaelle is planning for the future, ya know? Still, that smile is given to him and the wine taken back for one last sip before she closes it up and hands it to him to carry. Soon as the flap is pulled back, she ducks into the tent, likely just at the right time,f or it's then with a crash of thunder and lightening, the rain begins to fall. The storm has arrived.

As they enter the tent and the rain starts to fall outside, Glaw actually looks a bit chargrinned, peering back to the flap, sighing, oddly enough. Well, now the bonfires will be stoked to keep burning to heat the winter into spring, and the frost hag will rush home abandoning her search for dry firewood, hence not having enough to keep a long winter, or so the story goes. Of course, that means plenty of thin shifts being soaked too, clinging to shapely bodies. Does he dare to give Gwyn's now dry outfit a once-over? Ahem. "I am not as forgetful as you seem to think.", he says, perhaps a bit cryptically. Nothing this night has gone completely according to plan for Glaw, though then again, nothing ended in disaster, yet. And so he moves to one of the little chests in one corner of the tent, to open it, before he retrieves a second garland. Wait, how many did he stash around the camp or with his squire? And then? yes, he approaches her with it, smiling faintly.

Ah, yes, poor Glaw will miss seeing Gwyn in a soaked shift. But who's to say she might not go out there at some point to help stoke the bonfire, throwing pieces of wood upon it to keep it going? Surely everyone will take part in doing that at some point through the night? For now, however, she remains dry but for a few drops that might have caught her before she completely ducked into the tent. Looking about, she allows her gaze to slide over the items within, slowly turning to face him as he approaches with yet another garland in his hand. This time, she quirks a brow, "So, I am your second choice tonight?" Oh, ouch. The garland she'd been carrying had been tied to her belt, leaving her hands free earlier in the evening.

Glaw would reel from that jab if he had not anticipated it. Still the smile waves a little at that, and he lets his hand with it sink, not yet daring, perhaps, to try to hang it over her head and around her neck. "Arian's was atonement.", he says, instead. "And…politics. And I think Signe would curse me for being not true to the Faith if she knew the other reasons.", Glaw admits, quiet, stepping closer to her. "And yet you are right. Tonight, you would be the second to be offered it, though I would have thought I already promised you beltaine long before tonight.". Odd, perhaps, that he would be so candid now, after all the subterfuge, if not outright deceit, he engaged this night.

"Atonement? Politics?" Gwynaelle is curious, and it shows, trying to understand what all he might have been up to with his subterfuge and schemes. She hasn't refused the garland, merely questioned, her gaze watching as he steps closer to her. "There are many days between then and now, and Beltaine still.." Ducking her head, she unties the garland hanging from her belt, fixing a few of the flowers, straightening the ribbons. "I made but one for myself.." Lifting her head then, she holds it out to him quietly. One garland for one interest.

Glaw has not retracted the offer, but is stalling, perhaps because he knows she would be curious, because he wants her to understand. "When she was chosen Maid at Beltaine four years ago, I did not offer her one.", he says, smiling faintly. "You know how things are then for that girl." That one who would lead the ceremony to be "chased" by Cerunnos and surely be bedded. Ahem. "Glaw the squire did see her refuse garland after garland and the young man of then did not think he should bear such a slight to his Pride, so I never gave her the one she would have deserved.". Atonement for a slight he dealt her, even if she never knew it. "Now she politely refused me.", he says, chuckling. Does that make him more or less arrogant? Hard to tell. "Politics: Because she has her eyes on that Christian Knight: Kamron. And he on her. I watched her for two days now.", he smirks at that. "And it did the effect I had hoped for.". Surely the jealousy was stirred. Bad Glaw, bad.

As she unties and lifts the garland, straightening it, then offers it, Glaw might surprise her, for he does not duck his head. He goes on one knee before her instead. Okay, so she is not that short.

"Oh.." Gwynaelle is slowly starting to understand, and yet, surely she can't let him off the hook /too/ quickly! She does smile as he speaks of Kamron, laughing a little then, "I noticed he puffed up like a rooster when he realized you were offering the garland to her, even without completely understanding what it meant.." The prickle of jealousy may well have been felt by the young lady before him as well upon seeing the garland being offered to the other lady knight!

With her own garland held out, he does surprise her when he goes to his knee, allowing her to easily settle it about his neck, fingers to trace a light brush against his cheek as her gaze lingers upon his face.

Glaw smiles a bit wryly as she understands. "He may well break her heart, yet, but if so it will be soon and clean so she can mend.", Glaw says. Well, that female pagan knight did impress him apparently, that he does go to such length. "So it is only fair that he knows that she will be snatched up come Beltaine if he does not grow a spine before his peers and his God, even if not by me.". Him? He has other, prior engagements. "But what I told him is true and Sir Arian reminded me of that: The faint of heart do not deserve the affections of women that are bright of mind, with fire in their hearts.". And yes, he is looking at her now. "I do not know how this story will end Gwyn. But I am not a stupid squire anymore. If one does not dare, one does not win.".

Down to one knee he goes, the garland accepted by her hand, and as she brushes his cheek, he turns to kiss her palm, if she allows, only to push back to sand before her. "Gwynaelle of Idmiston. Will you bear my favors this eve?", he inquires, lifting his own to try to slip it over her head, around her neck. "To be the first to do so, before someone else might ursurp me as I did to Sir Kamron.".

"It is better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all, yes? To actually live life while you can… it can end too quickly." Gwynaelle offers quietly, understanding his words, and blushing a touch when he looks to her in such a way.

With her own garland placed about his neck, she does not snatch her hand away, allowing the press of his lips to her palm, her fingers closing over the kiss when he moves to his feet again. This time, there are no other words but a smile and nod of her head, that half step forwards to accept the garland that he now puts about her neck. "No one tried earlier.." No one likely dared while she was around her father!

Well, then at least one plan went as…planned. When she accept the garland instead of dismissing it, or to wrap around her wrist like the evil Arian, Glaw smiles at her words. "Good.", is all he says about that. Only then does he gesture to one of the chairs, for her to sit, if she so chooses. "I am sure you will collect a few more tonight.". Even if she already accepted one. "I am sorry that…well.", he shrugs then. Apologizing is not his strong suit, obviously. "…Well, I did promise a disappointment. I wished I could have spared you that.". Meaning making it appear like she was second choice.

With garland now safe about her neck and the gesture towards the nearby chair, Gwynaelle steps to the side to take a seat, only to shake her head slightly at his teasing words, her gaze to find his, "Should they be offered, they'd be turned away, Glaw." Only one garland was she after, and she's got it now. As for the stumbling apology, she listens, then smiles, "I forgive you. Though, perhaps you might find a way to make it up to me, hmm?" Ah, yes, she's teasing him more.

Glaw finds a nearby chair once she is seated, still panting slightly from the dancing. Figures. Lug around chainmail weighing as much as himself almost: No problem. Twirl around a girl or five weighing half that? And he sounds like an old warhorse after a charge. Still, when she declares she would dismiss the offered favors, he chuckles, lofting a brow at that. "Really? You would be so black-hearted to crush the young men's hopes by throwing their garlands at their feet?", he wonders, studying her, eyes filled with mirth. Perhaps he thinks eh knows Gwyn too well to think she would do that. Tease? Two can play that game! And then she ties her forgiveness to making it up to her? Oh, perhaps she is crueler than he had known her afterall! "Oh? And how would M'Lady wish for me to make up for it?", he wonders, lips curving upwards slightly.

And here she is, only seeming to be barely out of breath now that they have had some wine and stopped dancing! When he calls her upon dashing such hopes in that way, she tilts her head, then blushes. He's got her there. She wouldn't be /that/ cruel, no. They'd likely go about her wrist or waist, to be 'considered' as is nice. She leaves that there, soon to seem to ponder his question of her before she finally answers, "A kiss." Surely he should have known that might come up?

Glaw checked his lustful of 13, he rolled 1.

A blush and no answer? Yes, that makes Glaw laugh. For shame. Laughing at her. Ahem. "I…would like to see them on you and hate it at the same time.", Glaw admits. Oh, he is not too shy to admit that the ploy he used on Kamron would work on him too. That is why it was so effective. He leaves it at that, as well, however, perhaps to not make her blush more. Or to start an argument. Her simple demand to make things up to her, however? That makes him laugh a little. Somehow they two are doing everything the wrong way around! Is she not supposed to withhold kisses for as long as possible? Ahem. Glaw opens his mouth then, perhaps to argue such point. Or at least tease. To remind her what her father would say, or if anyone peered into the tent then — though surely not as scandalous among their faith than the rest of Logres. Odd, however, he does not say anything, merely gets up to walk over to her chair, hands to settle on the arm rests to half loom over her with a faint grin, perhaps to make the lady he has known for half his life reconsider such forward demands? "As m'Lady wishes…", he half whispers to then lean in, lest she evades to press lips against hers. What? Did she think he would go for her cheek or the corner of her mouth? Ahem.

"Would you, hmm?" Gwynaelle asks fo him, only to smile sweetly in his direction when he admits he'd hate to see them on her wrists at the same time. Might she be considering going out there to collect a few then?? Still, he asks how to make it up to her, and the answer is given, perhaps one he wasn't quite expecting. And maybe, it's one that even surprises herself with on some level that she was so brazen to ask for. And so, as he crosses closer to her, to place hands upon the arms of the chair, to loom over her in such a way, she tilts her head, watching his expression, eyes to widen just slightly as he leans in closer. And with the half whispered words offered? She licks her lips, though makes no attempt to turn her head away, letting him kiss her as he would, be it check, corner of her mouth, or lips. That he chooses the last, brings a soft sound of pleasure from the young lady in response, returning the kiss offered.

Oh, perhaps there is a cruel streak in Gwyn afterall. Green eyes study her as she seems to be considering to poke his jealousy like that, seem to take a liking to the idea even. Bad Gwyn, bad. Ahem. Still, when the challenge is given, Glaw moves to claim that kiss she demanded. Ahem. The angle might be a bit odd, but the look of wide-eyed worry she might have asked too boldly makes up for it. Oh, surely the prideful man would like to know he is able to cause such un-ladylike behavior from the former foster-sister of his. Lips soon meet, and while Glaw perhaps had meant to keep it somewhat chaste at least, that lick of her lips might have been too tempting, for surely lips soon part to try to take a taste of her lips, to draw her bottom lip in briefly.

Gwynaelle check your lustful at 13, you rolled 14.
Gwynaelle check your chaste at 7, you rolled 13.

Gwynaelle may save that for later, tempting him with the garlands. Here and now, she seems far more interested in the promise of a kiss! When his lips meet hers, the soft sound of pleasure is made by she, body leaning forwards as her lips part beneath the press of his. When he begins to draw in her bottom lip, she is once more almost bashful, flushing then in a way that perhaps speaks of her lack of experience in this department, no matter how much she may try and pretend otherwise!

Perhaps Glaw has expected her to be more bashful after he pressed the kiss to her lips, not encourage him with such sounds, with the way she presses against his lips. Her taste taken, the bottom lip drawn in to be caressed breifly by tongue, then raked with teeth, before he pulls back, both reluctantly, and perhaps a bit swiftly. Oops, perhaps the knight did not trust himself to not do much more than asked, if this keeps up? Green eyes reopen then, to watch that blush on her skin, and he is oddly panting much more again. Really might think he is badly out of shape, the way that is going. Ahem. "I…am sorry. I think I got carried away….", he whispers. Aw, does he misinterpret her blush?

Lips pressed together, the play of his teeth against her bottom lip, and Gwynaelle's hand lifts from the arm of the chair to brush his hand, up along his arm to curl there againts his bicep. When the kiss is broken, she too, is left panting, lids to flutter upwards to reveal her gaze upon him, cheeks warmed by her blush. When he apologizes, she shakes her head, lifting the other hand to press a finger against his lips if able, "No.. apologies.. it was.. near perfect." Only /near/ perfect?

As she presses her finger to his lips, Glaw does hush — for once. A faint smile to curve lips under her finger, but then she calls it near perfect? Oh, how those green eyes narrow at her, then? Surely such insolence deserve a punishment? Does he dare to tilt his head so he can nip at the pad of that finger of hers against his lips. Yep.

Gwynaelle likely knows just what she's doing, especially when she says /that/ to him. Watching his eyes narrow, and the feeling the nip that comes, only ends up making her laugh huskily. Allowing her finger to drop away, she dares to dart in to press a quick kiss to his lips, "I cannot let you get too big a head, dear Sir Glaw.. " Thus, saying 'nearly', no doubt.

What did he get into with that evil woman. And when did she get so evil? He was only away from that manor of hers for five years. So what if that have been kinda important five years? Ahem. That husky laugh of hers only narrows those eyes further, though there is no true anger, more an impish glint in them as she claims it is to prevent his big head to get to him. He leans in then, not to press in a kiss, no, though one might get the impression he was tempted. No, something more sinister is his plan, to caress her ear with the breath of his whisper. "It is not only my head you have to worry making big, M'Lady.". Ooops. So Glaw can be rather crude, too, apparently. Ooops.

It is the fact he was away completely, leaving her alone. Gwynaelle can't even blame it on being around her brothers either, for they have been gone these years! Nope, someone's just been listening to the various women around her house, and those visiting friends of hers, no doubt. Feeling the passage of days and years herself, looking towards the time when she may go a-courting. Or at least take part in the various fun holidays! So, as he leans in, she may expect another kiss, but instead, that whisper comes and instead, she's left with lips parted, and reddening cheeks. Oh. My! She half laughs, then nudges his shoulder with a hand, "Sir Glaw!" She finally manages to exclaim, soon laughing as she shakes her head at him.

Glaw thinks that is punishment enough, having planted those seeds in her mind. Pushed by her shoulder, he draws back, grinning and trying to give her widened-maiden-like eyes. Which might not work out so well for him and he only keeps it up a moment or two before he laughs, shrugging his shoulder. "It is only fair for you to know.", he then claims, eyes darkening a little. "Beltaine is not that far off.". Yep. That. She _did_ invite him to her lands for that, did she not? And they both know how that festival can go. Ahem. Perhaps Glaw is trying to scare her? Or perhaps just to prepare her for what she is causing. Ahem.

Once he steps back, Gwynaelle rises from the chair, daring to step towards him even as he reminds her of her former invitation. "No, it isn't so far away.. a few months time." For while her cheeks remain a delightful pink, her eyes have darkened as well as she closes the distance between a little more, "I plan to leave my offerings to the fae, to wake early and bathe in the dew then go out and pick flowers. I hope to jump the bonfire with you that evening.. dance.. " And so she steps closer, allowing her form to brush against his, ".. perhaps kiss.."

He retreats, though not far, and when she rises to follow him, he smirks faintly, half stepping away from her to make her chase him a little at least, until she begins to speak of her plans for that day, it is his turn to fall quiet for a moment. Oh. She is evil, putting such thoughts, such images, too, in his head, only to end up brushing against him. A deeper breath is taken by Glaw, watching the blushing, bold maiden before him. "I look forward to jump the fire with you.", he admits. That is one of his favorite parts of the feast, and yet, he has to ask, one hand to lift to settle on her waist, if she allows. "Does your manor…observe the hunt of Cerunnos?". Well, sometimes adjacent villages have different customs, right? Got to know what to expct, right? Ahem.

Gwynaelle isn't evil. Merely a woman who knows what she wants. Or rather, who she wants. As his hand moves to settle upon her waist, she listens to the question, soon to nod her head, "Aye, we do. I.. did not get to take part in it, of course." While pagan, her father always wished to keep certain things clear, especially once he younger brother died leaving her as heir. "I have been tempted to put myself forward this year as the May Queen.." Against what her father would want. Go figure!

Glaw would argue that all women are evil. And especially Gwyn for she knows he had always had a soft spot for her, and she takes unfair advantage of it. Ahem. As she explains, her listens, nodding at first, as she is obviosuly not having taken part, only to blink at the latter. IT should not surprise him, after all, she hinted as much on their ride to Sarum, and Glaw takes a deeper breath at her. "You want to give your father heart stop, don't you?", he wonders, looking at her. Torn is he between the loyalty to his old knight, even if it was only for a year being his squire, and something else. "…I just wonder if it will be before or after he slays me.", he dares to paint such a dark and gloomy picture, and yet smirk faintly, with humor in his voice? Leaning down, he finally presses his forehead against hers, if she lets him.

"Perhaps then, he should have allowed me to at least take part in some things before now?" Gwynaelle asks of him then when he dares to suggest she might kill her father with her antics these days. It's not like she's getting any younger, right? "Would you then seek to be Cerronus?" She dares to ask, voice quiet when he leans in to press his forehead to hers. "Or shall I not seek to be the May Queen, and instead.. look forwards to a private chase?"

Glaw sighs. Not for the reasons that Gwyn might think, but he does so still. "You and my sister, both.", he finally half-whispers. Well, he knows Niamh is chaffing under the same restraints put on her, wanting to celebrate her religion and being kept from doing so for political reasons. Yet, he knows it could be worse. "He sought to assure you the brightest future he could manage.", he finally says, not being able to let her rail against her father without making at least a token defense of the man. "Can you truly fault him for worrying? He is not getting any younger.". And yet, when their foreheads touch, and the young lady asks so boldly, so without hesitation, laying it clear what she would seek that May night, Glaw cannot help but to chuckle faintly. "You drive a dagger in my heart, Gwyn.", he complaints faintly, but still with humor in his voice, oddly enough. Loyalties, torn between so many. "Perhaps spare him the outright disobedience at least?". And keep it a private chase, is his suggestion, the hand from her wait to lift to cup her cheek, so he can lift her gaze to his. "You would make a glorious effigy of the Goddess, Gwynaelle. And I am rotten to ask you to abstain from that honor, but I ask nonetheless.". Is he saying he leaves it for her to decide in the end? Gasp!

"So I am not the only one then, hmm?" Being kept at home, unable to truly take part in the festivities. How do you honor the goddess and gods then? It's hard, so hard, to be female! Or at least, noble. "I cannot fault him for such, no. But surely.. he can understand why I might have had enough by now?" Twenty-one is a long time waiting! That there is humor in his voice at least soothes what worry she might have had at his words, though as his hand rises to cup her cheek, to ask her nonetheless, she considers his words, then slowly nods her head, "You ask, and I shall agree.." To keep it a private chase.

Glaw knows they are complicated times, especially for the women of their Faith. At least when they are noble, indeed. "I am sure he understands, Gwynaelle. And I am sure it pains him.". Is he still talking about her father? It might sound like he said those words too often to someone else. Poor Glaw, surely having his twin barred from part of the worshipping must have cut? Still, when she agrees to his request, he nods, smiling, before he quips, "Good. Can't risk having anyone else catch you before me.", he claims. Wait, it is not that kind of race, he surely knows, and surely he is not slow of foot either, but perhaps he wants to lift the mood a little again by jesting. And perhaps just to see those eyes of hers widen again when she might imagine being chased by more than one would-be-Cerunnos. Ahem.

Gwynaelle quirks a brow, likely sensing the fact that such words do not come for the first time to him. Remembering that he's mentioned that his sister has been under similar restrictions but brings a wry smile to her lips, "Again, I am not the only one who's felt the need to take part in such celebrations in your life…" Amusement to show but briefly before such a quip is heard from him. Laughing then, she draws back to peer at him, only to blush, "Surely you are not so slow though that you would allow another to catch me?"

"No. Not the only one. Not by far.", Glaw admits. wait, is he saying there are those even beyond his sister he might have known to have suffered such restraints. Stil, when she laughs, teasing him about being too slow, Glaw's grin grows, watching her blush once more. Yep, the maiden acts bold, but perhaps Glaw enjoys his own brand of cruelty to make her wonder, doubt? How else would you explain his next words, otherwise. "I am not a lumbering ox, no…", he says, before the hand tightens a little at her waist. "…but the veil on such nights is thin, afterall. Who knows what else might hunt for the May Queen?". Surely the Fae would be more interested in the public affair more than their private chase. Or so his thinking goes, but one has to wonder, right?

"It's a good thing to know, especially when you think you are all alone in feeling the restrictions." Gwynaelle says, honestly enough in that time. The playful words spoken, the grins and looks between, leave her laughing again, though she soon hmms when he points out that not all the night's revelers will be human. "And that is why I would be certainly to put out the offerings to the fae that night, in hopes that they would leave me be.." Good hopes, right? Not that if one put such temptation before the fae, that they might forget the offering!

Glaw laughs soflty. "There are plenty, but yes, Niamh is one of them.", Glaw lets her know. Surely he should not put those two together. That would only be trouble. Ahem. Still, when she laughs, only to get more cautious, it is Glaw's turn to laugh at her. "If I were a lord of Faerie, do you think any gold, silver or other offerings would turn me from my quarry?", he wonders, and as to make a point steps back half a step, to let his eyes roam over the dress she wears, the way it accents her figure. "Especially if it is such a fetching quarry?".

"More and more I think I should get to know your sister better. IT has been some time since I really spoke to her." Likely not since he left the manor to begin his true training as a knight! Which is truly a pity, as close in age the two girls are. But as he steps back to look her over, she stands there proudly, a certain knowing smile upon her lips as she murmurs, "And perhaps I would let myself be caught, especially by such a handsome hunter."

Glaw chuckles at that. "I think she still resents your father…or me…for leaving her "alone" for those years when I paged with yours.", he admits, smirking. Well, the bond between twins is strong, after all, is it not? Glaw seems more amused by it, though, than worried, apparetnly not thinking the resentment is all that deep or serious. As the topic turns to chases and her allowing herself to be caught, with that smile of hers, Glaw narrows his eyes a little. Did she mean by him, or by that hypothetical fae lord he mentioned? "Oh?", he wonders, taking a step back towards her, perhaps starting the stalking a bit early. Ahem. "Would you so willingly surrender yourself into the power of a hunter? Who knows what he would be after once he had you…?", he wonders, his voice to lower a touch, watching her.

"Then it is something I would have need to overcome." Gwynaelle says with a smile, as if such resentment is something so easily set aside before her cheerfulness! But, with that said, she steps back as he proceeds to stalk her, the smile never leaving her lips. Ah, yes, she's answering his steps with a graceful dance of her own, leading him about the tent with a swirl of her skirts, bare feet silent upon the rug laid upon the cold ground. "Do you truly think my father would never teach me how to deal with an overzealous admirer? "

Oh, that she is so sure she can win his sister over with but a smile and cheerful word makes Glaw grin. The two are to alike sometimes. But let's best not think about _that_ for longer. Ahem. As she begins to draw back from him, those bare feet to slide over the furs and rugs that make the bottom of the tent but makes his eyes narrow more at her. Oh, he is a hunter, well she knows. Surely she is playing with fire there? "Ah, no slight to your father's training, but I have yet to meet a woman who could best me.", he boasts, his chin lifting. Yep. Prideful indeed. "And surely a Fae Lord would be equal in skill?", he adds then, as if an afterthought, remembering the "game" a bit too late perhaps. Another step taken then, towards her, circling the two chairs in the middle. It is not unlike the games they played in their youths. Only. With quite different stakes. Ahem.

That is Gwynaelle, though. A cheerful sort most of the time. Always has been. Laughing again, her voice husky as she ponders aloud, "But you have not been around me in many a year.." As if to insinuate that she could best him? And so the dance begins about the inside of the tent, chairs put between with but a step or two taken by she. And still she smiles, laughs at times as he gives chase after her. Even if she may be on the offensive, she laughs, enjoying it. Then again, one might think with the look in her eyes, she's got some ulterior plan or idea brewing in that head of hers.

Ulterior plan? Gwyn? Neeeever. Yeah, right. He knows how mischievous she can be, so perhaps there is a hint of suspicion in those eyes of his as she keeps circling, trying to keep the chairs between them. Oh, he is laughing as well, despite trying to look imposing and faintly menacing. "Oh? You took up armor, sword and shield after I left?", he wonders, amused. "Could you even peer over the shield?", he wonders, taunts her, like he used to when she was a little girl. Well, she still is not very tall! Ahem.

That grin has shifted, her laughter turning huskier as he speaks, "A woman doesn't need armor, sword and shield.." She taunts right back. Not a knight is she, but she has her ways, right? Just about the time he might try and step in closer, she grabs her skirts, hefts them upwards, and darts out the open flap of the tent into the rain. Well, if anyone's looking, she's going to head for the nearest fire to toss in a few pieces of wood. See, being helpful she is!

"Is that so?", Glaw wonders as she taunts back, grinning more now. Surely he is tempted to show her just how easily she would find herself in trouble with a trained knight! Only, she turns to run for real then! Hey! No fair!

Still, Glaw is faster than he looks. And much fleet of foot as she may more feel and hear behind her than see as she takes flight, the chair in the middle is stepped upon, one foot on the edge of the seating, the other on the edge of the backrest to use the momentum to flip it over and him riding it to the ground, before he is after her through the flap. Well, lugging those armors around half his life has made him used to the twir weight. And…he is not wearing any now. Ut oh! Still, soon they are running around in the rain, the mud, and Glaw laughs at her as he tries to catch up with her. Yep. See. Helpful. Just lugging firewood are they. Just ignore the narrowed eyes at her. And the low growl when he passes by her to pick up a log himself.

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