They were standing near the riverbank. Kaprice walked calmly behind the group, her hands clasped behind her back as she listened to the quiet rush of the waterfall in the distance. She thought that maybe she'd like a waterfall in her barony if possible; her platoon would enjoy it. Her gaze fell to footprints embedded in the dirt—a set of smaller, child-sized prints beside larger ones. She could tell the larger one belonged to a female.
When she bent down to touch the child's print, a strange warmth tingled on her fingertips as she traced the outline. Then, bringing them to her lips, a flicker of recognition sparked against them.
"Lord Dazriel's SE," she muttered under her breath. Her voice barely audible over the rushing waters.
Jiron turned as heard her voice, and he walked back towards her.
"How long ago do you think it's been since Lord Dazriel was a child?" she asked him.
"Hmm… centuries, maybe?" Jiron muttered as he comtemplated the question.
