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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 13:14:50 GMT -5
A quaint and quiet inn for respectable people, run by an elderly woman. The name of the inn came from her father, who used to complain about her incessant requests for pony when she was younger, and named the inn after her as a result.
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 13:16:35 GMT -5
The Flints of Widow's Watch entered, and made arrangements for a series of rooms. While the others went to wash up and rest, Summer Snow went out into the city to see what she could see.
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 13:25:49 GMT -5
Mark Toland passed by the building, right in front of Summer as she stepped outside. He grinned at her, always happy to meet a young woman especially one he didn't already know.
"Good day, my lady. I don't recognise your face. Are you new to the city?"
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 13:26:38 GMT -5
"Why would you recognize my face," the girl retorted, brushing a long strand of black hair out of the way of her ice blue eyes. "I don't know you."
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 13:30:37 GMT -5
"I didn't expect you to. That's why I said I didn't recognise you either. I'd surely remember you if we'd met before. I'm Mark Toland, of Ghost Hill."
He grinned and waited for her to fill in the pause by introducing herself.
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 13:56:29 GMT -5
"Where's Ghost Hill," The girl replied instead.
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 14:05:44 GMT -5
"Dorne, near the Broken Arm. We're quite close to Sunspear. You have an interesting accent. You're not southron, I'll wager," Mark said, trying again. "May I ask where you hail from?"
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 14:22:00 GMT -5
"Not Southron?" She replied, "What's south of Dorne?"
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 14:45:45 GMT -5
"The sea," Mark said, laughing. "Do you not think I should consider myself southron? Everything is further north than Dorne, so anyone over the Stormlands border is northern to me, though I daresay anyone born south of the Neck would still disagree. And I still don;t know which you are."
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 14:48:36 GMT -5
"Well, your from Dorne, so you should say that I sound Northern, meaning anyone who isn't Dornish," the girl replied, "Where as, being from the North, I say anyone below me, is Southron. And my name is Summer Snow."
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 14:55:08 GMT -5
"That's a good point, it's what I meant, except I didn't quite know where exactly you were from. You've a pretty name, my lady. And a pretty face too."
He knew it was a little odd to call her a lady when she was a bastard but there were some girls who would like to be called a lady even though they were not. He didn't know which she was, yet, and besides, he spoke the truth. Her name was pretty.
"How is it that a Northern woman comes to Kings Landing?"
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 14:57:19 GMT -5
"Well I can't take the name as a compliment, I assure you," she said acidly, "I didn't pick it. The face I didn't pick either, but that compliment," She smiled, "I will take. Probably in the same manner as a Dornishman. I sailed here."
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 15:04:25 GMT -5
"I see. I know little of the North, I confess. I did come by ship, as it happens, but it was some little while ago. Are you here with your kin, my lady?"
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Post by The Flint on May 3, 2011 15:17:09 GMT -5
"Mayhaps I am," she replied, "And if you've been here for awhile, you must already know your way around."
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Post by Marie on May 3, 2011 15:20:32 GMT -5
"I do, yes, a fair part of the city, I believe. I'm based at the Red Keep for now. I would be happy to help if you need any guidance."
There was a thread of hope in his voice. He was attracted to the girl and would seize any chance that was offered.
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Hope you all are well and happy.