[P] lady i swear by all flowers

[Sarkan]

Sarkan The moral of the tale is this: whoever allows himself to be whipped, deserves to be whipped.   Her words drew his smile up into a grin, one that lingered as she curtsied. Sarkan could not recall being so greeted before, except by young girls who wished to be ladies. This woman made it seem exotic, with her dished nose and waterfall of hair and the smallest chime of her jewelry. She reminded him of a swan, and like the bird, she didn’t strike him as the type to travel alone. Whether she didn’t know about the danger in Delumine or simply didn’t care, Sarkan could only guess. “Not this time,” he said with a chuckle, as though she’d made a joke. “I don’t mind the weather, but it’s much easier this time of year to just pay for dinner instead of finding it.” The sun crept higher, turning frozen fog to diamonds, limning her hair and that spiraling horn. When she spoke her name it seemed he could smell the flower itself, light and sweet, like the word had been an invocation. “Daniel,” he answered, lying as naturally as she, and for a moment there was only the fog of their breaths that rose up between them. Then the grey nodded toward the case that lay along her lilac side. “What do you play?” @Mesnyi