Furley looked over the horizon as the sun went down. He had slowly begun to calm down, now, his heart rate returning back to normal, but he still felt his rage swell and burn inside of him. Forcing himself to exhale, he felt his head throb a little, and put a sweaty, grimy hand to his forehead. In his hand, a small metallic object was being passed idly between his fingers, as he turned it over like the windmills in his mind.
Seeing how the Watcher had been disrespected brought everything back. Some towering drunkard had made derogatory comments about the Watch, and his Watcher friend had called him up on it. In the end, he'd followed them out of the inn after the commotion was over, and somehow she was made to apologise. Grinning to himself, his mouth curled up in the corner, his anger still seething.
"And they wonder why the Chetwood's overrun?" he mused, aloud. "And they wonder why Archet burned? And they wonder why the southron's are here for us all?". He felt like all respect of the Watch had gone; nowadays they had to justify themselves to outraged drunkards and apologise for their actions over everything they did, and people seriously expected them to be feared enough to successfully repel threats in Bree and keep people under heel?! It was a joke, and he was glad he had buried his badge a long time ago.
That made him chuckle. He hadn't buried it more than frisbeed it at Heathstraw's head, before trading a few expletives with him. But his mind was on other things, now, and as he turned the metallic, circular studded object in his fingers, he thought on it some more.
In two weeks he'd be riding south with his retinue, after he was called to the Isen by Thane Haeneth. He couldn't forget that familiar, pitted, sinking feeling that this time he wouldn't return home, but he would ride south anyway. Now all that was left was the last, unspoken question. His Edelinia wished to ride south with him, but now he wasn't so sure.
At the slightest sign of confrontation, she always seemed to scarper. The poor girl undoubtedly had issues, though it didn't stop him loving her for all of them, but if it came to it, in the heat of a battle, would she be level-headed enough to respond? She had worked so hard to train for the opportunity, but his first thought was always for her. "Will she come home safe if she rides south? Or would it be certain death?" he mused once again, aloud once again.
Taking a deep breath, he watched the orange sun as it began to disappear behind the tree-line, and sighed again. "I can't stop her" he thought. "She's free to come with me. But am I making the right choice, or am I selfishly putting her into harm's way?".
Flicking the metallic, circular, studded ring in his hand with his thumb, he caught it in his palm on its downward trajectory, and stuffed it back safely in his pocket, ensuring it was as secure as possible.
"If I return home alive, dear Ede, then just maybe".
