iamthefirechild
theonly-consultingdetectiveA casual stroll through the woods was never unheard of for the druid, which was how he found himself coming across an oddly dressed person near the walls of the city. He was sure that he did not know them which meant they were either a traveller or here for less savoury purposes. Mordred would have to find out why they were here; thankfully though, they had not seen him yet.
He used this advantage to approach them from behind, and a couple of steps later he had his sword pressed gently against the stranger’s back—between their shoulder blades.
”State your name and intent,” he demanded.
Summer froze when the sword caressed her spine. Please don’t be bandits, she prayed. The man didn’t seem like a bandit, but she’d been fooled before.
Which was how she came to be afoot, approaching Camelot, weary and all but penniless.
“My name is Summer. Summer Rainault. I am a lady of the southern shore, come to visit the King’s court.” She lifted her hands from her tattered skirts, showing them empty. No weapons hung at her hip. Those, too, were gone, with her horse and baggage. “Please, I mean no harm.”