<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Theodore White (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=705318), Brock (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=705320)</strong></span><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i749.photobucket.com/albums/xx134/ulthakptah/crossbowman_zpsf84ddf49.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i749.photobucket.com/albums/xx134/ulthakptah/badger-rx_zps2bb88ddc.jpg)</div>It was sure to be a long journey. Ted knew that going in. It always was after all. Smugglers like to take long out of the way trips so as not to get caught. It didn't work out to well for them this time though. It wasn't so bad, but riding day in and day out does take its toll on the body. Especially on your horse. He was sure the tiredness he felt was nothing compared. That and she hadn't had time to just frolic and graze. Once he was in the court yard he got out and patted her snout. Ted did take notice of the noble sword training. She seemed handy, but swinging wooden blades were quite different then fighting for your life in real battle.<br/><br/>He walked his mare over towards the stables. He wanted to get her pack and saddle off so she could run free a bit. Once he had gotten her all bare he rubbed her chest and let her off to graze and trot some before putting her up for the night. He slung off his pack too and sat against the wall. He watched the lady train some more while resting. A small black nose poked out of the bag, and out crawled Brock. Brock curled up into a ball on his owners lap. Ted scratched the badger's head, relaxing while keeping an eye on his mare, and the people sparing.