Pash
They awoke to a loud hammering on the door of their tower room.
Pash was already sat on the edge of his bed, fully awoken, busy putting on his uniform, whilst his master was still sprawled out upon his straw-stuffed mattress, his mouth wide open as he softly snored, with Fingers curled up by his feet.
"Open this door, damn you! The sun's been out for hours already," the rowdy voice of Harkin called out to them, accenting his words with a few more raps of his fist against the wood.
Pash slipped into his leather boots and flicked up the iron latch to let him in.
Two weeks had passed since that evening in the Earl's dining room. Everything had happened so rapidly after that. The very next day, both he and his master had been kitted out with a chevalar guard's uniform and armour. And - on that very evening - they had been put to work guarding the walls.
