Branwenn was in the stables, a flute clasped within her hands, emerald eyes closed as she lay across Rookâ€™s back. Her fingers nimbly finding the notes as her new white dress spilled down along the horseâ€™s side. For once she had actually tamed her long raven hair as it too lay across the horseâ€™s shoulder. The notes that came from the flute seemed to swirl in the air, calming the horses in the stable as they ate their grain, then the last note seemed to hang in the air.<br/><br/>Sighing, the young woman looked up into the rafters, she had been hiding from her father all morning in attempt to avoid speaking of her marriage. To her his reasons were Barbaric, just because the Chief had a village and moneyâ€¦ With a disgruntled groan she let her arm holding the flute fall limply off the horse, while her other arm came and laid upon her forehead.<br/><br/>How she wished to be back home, back where she knew her maids, and they would cover for her when she snuck out, but hereâ€¦She knew no one and her future husband was, well, he was a portly fellow and she didnâ€™t want portly. Branwenn wanted to be engaged to someone who would go out and be wild with her, riding through the glens and laying beneath the stars. THAT was happinessâ€¦But thisâ€¦ The girl scowled as she relaxed against Rookâ€™s back as he ate calmly.