>>5436467" <span class="mu-s"> You now, Claire, I was just very tired that time... It happens to anybody, to commit stupid mistake. I just forgot soup was liquid. And if you found a way to create pocketable soup... I would definitely appreciate it. But you'll keep laughing at me. </span>
- We're not laughing at you, Hector. We're laughing with you. You know, you have this undomitable knight aura, having fought so many battle and win against so many hard odds... Mistakes makes you human. Just perfection is boring, isn't it?
- <span class="mu-s"> I'm not perfect, far from it. Due to my lack of planning and foresight, I lead knight to their death. Good men. Dying for nothing. And that's not counting the number of fight I finished inconscient, my face laying in the grass and mud.</span>
- Laaaadieess and gentlemannnn... isn't the fight over? Why are they still in wrestling position? Get a tent, you two! Or a treehouse to avoid the revenge of a short competitor"
Both of the fighter blush, and pick themself up.
"<span class="mu-s"> And I almost killed Guillot twice, once against beast herds, and that time we almost starved to death. Most of the previous mistakes left me with scars, either to my body or psyche, but that one time... It's a scar on my habits. And this is why I always try to have ration on hand. Like this food Renée just gave me! </span>"
Claire have quite a mix reaction to the speech. First half, she dusted her armor and fiddled with her hands, trying to muster the courage to say something. And at last sentence, she turns heels and walk away, somewhat pensive. Until a really determined Evette tackle Claire at knee level
"Kyaaaaa! Hector is mine! He is already bothered enough by the tomboy!"
That last word fell as a slur. Claire does not bother to answer, pick the probably inbread nuisance by the armpits while she flays around, take a couple step and drop her in the lake. Let's hope water is normal-human waste deep so she stays down. Alas, the good die young; Evette will probably makes it to the century mark.
Hector gather his spirit while Ulric is beating the poor Lucien to a pulp in the background, despite the fight being over quite soon.
Time to read the note. It's a scroll, rolled and tied with a black ribbon. And a teeny-tiny detail dawns Hector : he still doesn't know how to read.
>Write-in who to approach to get out of that conendrum 