HARK, A NEWFAG. ¬¬
{{The plains of this unknown world stretch far and wide, and somewhere in the distance, two faint specks of brown can be seen moving around. One is larger and longer than the other; taking a few steps, one would see that it was a horse, or at least, the upper half of a horse's body, walking in circles. In front of the half-horse, a floating head seems to be bobbing along.
...Something's off. Upon moving in even closer to the pair, one notices that it is not some illusion--rather, it seems that a jade-clad knight and his steed have been walking in the same circular path for so long that they have dug a six-foot trench into it. One would wonder how long this duo has been pacing around. A few more minutes of this awkward march pass before the man comes to a halt, a pensive look on his face.}}
Betsy, girl, I would like to remind you once again that we are hopelessly lost on these plains that are definitely not the outskirts of Kathelet.
{{A snort and whinny are his only replies.}}
Yes, we have also been marching in a circle for hours on end. You are quite perceptive, girl! {{He grins and turns to affectionately pat the mare's nose.}} However, not a soul has come to search for us; they know I cannot afford to miss the serving maids and their delectable soup bowls! Oh, what a rueful afternoon! How will I ever fill my quota of flirting with winning over these beautiful women if I cannot even find my way back to the inn?!
{{The last question is stated with gut-wrenching agony as Sain hides his face behind his forearm and bawls his eyes out. He hadn't even gotten to flirt with the innkeeper before riding out!}}
** Lolol. Hello, fedr. Have a Sain!