Escort duty. As through we were a couple of mercinaries. No bloody pride when she should have it, then all bloody prideful when she wants. M'lady bloody Olwing.
Women. Give them a foot and they take a league. She stands there, face as sour as bad wine when she hears what I says about it. What does she expect? Into the misty mountains with her is bad enough, tho' I give her some due, she knows how to hold her sword. But into the mountains with her and some dozy mare who aint even got a map... What does she want me to do... thank her?
