The look Ari sent towards the backside of the troubador as he left her belied her usual pleasant nature.  Even one such as he had little more then what lay beneath a girl's skirts.  There was so much more to her then that... she wondered if Xhol thought about that too and blushed deeply.  It wasn't fair.  Despite her sometimes bold words, she would never be as brave and fearless as Ilene when it came to that sort of thing.  Her anger blunted, she sighed, looking down at herself, covered with mud.  Papa would cry murder if she drug her muddied skirts through the inn.<br/><br/>She set off towards the stables with the intent of trying to clean off the worst of the mud and grass before sneaking up the back stairs to her room.