Serving the Princess

Aslatiel was grumpy. She'd never been injured during a fight before. Not like this. There were deep, bloody furrows on either side of her muzzle as well as across the top. Her opponent had tried to win by bitng her face. Well, she'd replied in kind and left her own marks behind.

Stalking back home, the cream and grey girl muttered to herself. She'd better not scar because of this. Scars were great, just not on her pretty face. If she did scar, she'd go after the woman that left them and she'd be sure to take a piece home with her.

As she crossed into Armada territory, the little earless wonder was sitting there, looking expectantly. What was her name? Fly? Bug? Something along those lines. She didn't understand why her father kept bringing home broken things. Since she was trying to be better though...

"What are you up to, Marmoset?" Was that her name? Marblewash? Escargot? Whatever. She'd just ask Mort later. He knew everyone. She'd never be that social.