It seemed that the story-telling rotation had fell on her, unless her first tale was supposed to count for something. In that case, it would be Larea's turn, but it would be unfair to bring such a responsibility down on her after just recovering from her unconscious state, nevermind the fact that she can't speak in the first place. Her first "Story" was so short, it probably wouldn't be counted anyway. From what she knew, it seemed like the stories had to be true happenings that occurred in the past; so there can be no mention of fushia bunnies shooting rainbow colored beams of light from their eyes. Then again, if magic, spirits, and Sigrun exist, purple laser-firing bunnies wouldn't come as much of a surprise if they were real.<br/><br/>The knight's finger was placed on her chin as she took a moment to drag a memory out from the dark recesses of her mind. Her life so was full of intrigue and suspense, like the time she attempted to tell a story... which was right now. If you believed something interesting ever occurred in the purple knight's history before this journey, you would be one twentieth correct in your assumption.<br/><br/>"If Zel's story was a biography, and Ahmaht's was about herbivorous reptiles, I should avoid expressing my self loathing or unconscious need to wrestle gigantic lizards to lessen the repetition," Sigrun explained in her usual droning tone of speech. "I was born 64 degrees north and 42 degrees east in the city of Neravas. Many days of my childhood involded going to my local educational instution and..."<br/><br/>The story went on for what seemed like hours, despite the matter-of-fact way she narrated. Sigrun's emotionless voice coupled with the monotonous details of her story would be enough to either lull someone into a deep slumber, or drag them into a pit of madness. Her autobiography consisted of amazing feats, such as the time she tripped on a rock and broke a tooth. There was also another time a moth landed on her nose and flew away. Oh, and she somehow managed to cut herself on a blade of grass. The events she listed about as exciting as the blade of grass that managed to lacerate her finger; stagnant and dull, but volatile enough to injure those around them. The quiet orator never realized that these were the things no one wished to hear about, especially from a story that was meant to provide entertainment. There were some semi-important details, such as her time training to become a knight in her sister's footsteps, but nothing she mentioned was of worth until the vague hint given at the very end,<br/><br/>"I was supposed to protect something important. I lost it. I left to find it. Now, here I am."<br/><br/>Even that wasn't enough to make up for the suffering inflicted upon everyone. After her tale was done, she abruptly retreated to staring at the ground and nothing more. This was her way of passing her turn, unless the story-time was over already. After wasting everyone's time for so long, it wouldn't be surprising if they simply wished to end the session and continue the journey... or fall asleep. Again.