<div align="center"><strong><em>~Dame Zalania, returning with the triumphant Henrik~</em></strong></div><br/>Zalania was almost dozing in the saddle, submerged into that state of semi-consciousness one tended to slip into on a lengthy ride. It by no means meant she wouldn't be able to draw blade at the first sign of anything wrong. It simply meant she was quite ready for a rest. Her entire body was shrouded within her white cloak, her head bouncing slightly with her mounts easy gait, an errant slip of white hair falling from her cowl with the gentle wind that came up.<br/><br/>She rode slightly to the right and behind of the Prince Henrik, as was her want and right as his personal guard. Occasionally Bad Horse would give a soft whicker, a shake of his head to remove errant fly's from his thick mane of black, and automatically she would respond with a low response. A “be patient”, or a “just keep moving”, would be a typical response.<br/><br/>The campaign had been fruitful, as Henrik was well versed in his duties. None had been lost on their side, and they had even managed to gain a hired blade as well. That one Zalania wasn't sure about, but it was not for her to say what choices Henrik made. As long as the Prince was safe, that was all that mattered. The sounds surrounding her were familiar, jingle of tack, murmur of soldiers, even the smell, though some might find offensive, were something that she was used to and preferred. Soon enough Bad Horse would bounce his head, pulling tighter upon the reins wrapped loosely within a gloved hand, and she would lift her head, gathering in a slow breath. Rolling her shoulders, hidden eyes of ice would gaze ahead, seeing the looming kingdom of Aserit ahead. None would witness the slight curl of full lips as a hand came to pat her steed upon his muscled neck, murmuring again. “ Look at that. Finally yes? You are in need of a bath Sir, your smell offends the senses..” Bad Horse would huff gently, chewing on the bit, seemingly having understood her jab. Softly chuckling she would straighten within the saddle, slipping a glance to Henrik as he rode before her. Still alive.<br/><br/>Perfect.