I wrote this piece especially for the Chatterbox event, but it might eventually find its way into ToP. Enjoy!
Petura lifted her chin and her skirts simultaneously and sat down on the fallen log. Bits of rotting bark brushed loose and scattered across her satins. Petura brushed them away but they crumbled into the finest damp powder and smeared mahogany stains across her pink gown.
Heron watched her and then turned, striding away through the forest. Dry twigs snapped under his feet.
"Where are you going?" Petura felt a twinge of alarm. Surely, he wasn't leaving her alone in the forest!
"Come on. I'm taking you home." His steady stride didn't slacken.
"You can't be serious. The palace is 2 days travel by carriage."
"Then I am taking you to the nearest lordly dwelling and dropping you off there."
Heron was getting farther away but he still did not stop. "That is my usual method of travel, m'lady."
Petura stood up. "There is no need to walk to anywhere." She crossed her arms. "If we wait here, my brother's men will find us."
The young man stopped then and swung his head to face her with a wry smile. "Unfortunately, I haven't the luxury of sitting around and waiting on your cavalry."
"And you expect me to follow you for miles and miles...like a loyal hound?"
He waved a hand carelessly. "Or sit there by yourself and wait for the bandits to return."