"... I hope that one day, they can be as good of friends as you've been…"
Sir Ollie's words fell on Sir Gavin's ears like a bucket of cold water on a cold winter's day, and his face burned with shame as he realized that he'd been clutching the hilt of his sword since the two de-, since Ollie's two friends had emerged from the wilderness.
"Well met, gentlemen," Gavin said, forcing himself to relax despite every instinct he'd trained for years screaming in the back of his mind that he should draw his sword and fight to protect Isolde, or to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away from here as fast as his legs would take him.
