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The lady proved a very logical point. Indeed, if he were two inches long, would he have been okay? Most likely not... And the fact that he was unsure if she was really pregnant or not didn't help either. If she was indeed, then he would be truly sorry. However, seeing as he was unsure of it, he didn't know how to respond to this matter. Should he be worried and inquire further? Or should he let it drop? He didn't think he had hurt the baby, but thinking and knowing were two totally different things. He was a guy, and he had no clue about childbirth at all. He had never seen it, had never watched his mother deliver his younger sister, and never planned to watch childbirth unless he had to... or the child was his own. And the last was entirely up to the midwife and the carrier of that child, of course. "Well... if I hurt the child, I am entirely sorry. But that is over now, and I can't change what I did."

Her incredulous tone made him ponder a few more moments, but he decided not to give up his case. He still doubted whether or not she was lying. If she thought she was telling the truth because of certain symptoms, it could also turn out to be a mistake, just happen to be some kind of flu. Which wouldn't be good, of course, if it had pregnancy-related symptoms... "Not entirely questioning as... stating my believes," he responded. "If I was questioning, I would inquire as to how you got pregnant, if the father knew, if you've been having morning sickness, and so on."

Yes, if he recalled correctly, when his mother was pregnant with his sister, she had frequently gotten sick in the morning, felt more exhausted then usual, craved certain foods, and was entirely in an unpleasant mood... Maybe this girl was pregnant like she insisted... She seemed moody enough. Though she wasn't very large, she didn't appear pregnant. Of course, even with his slightly curious look, he wouldn't voice these things aloud. Carrying her or no, the woman didn't seem like the kind of person that you would want to say these to. Women just seemed to be like that, and he knew that you shouldn't bring up things like size, mood swings, or even age, if you valued all of your body parts.

He knew that she didn't like his little playfulness either, As her response of "Cute," suggested. He retained his steady hold on her as she thrashed. "Steady, now. We wouldn't want to have to tell Drake about this little... mishap, would we?" Or more so... he wouldn't want to tell the man how he was carrying his sister around... He wasn't sure if the Knight would be amused, or angry at him. This was, after all, his sister, he would have to feel defensive of her, right? This thought made him wonder if he was being rather... unreasonable, perhaps? Careless? Uncharacteristically... abhorrent?

All these thoughts flew from his mind, however, when he changed his hold on her to a more casual and usual one of carrying women. She was glowering at him -- as expected, of course -- and it brought a small smile to his face as he looked up, as if he didn't notice her look in any way at all. He took another step forward, than a few more, wondering how, and if, she would resist this new position. " 'No regard for free will?' " he asked, his smile fleeing and being replaced with a small frown. "Is this what you call that? I assure you, milady, that I have much regard for free will. If it pleases you, when we return to Camelot, you may hit me for any 'insolence' I may have shown this day."

Richard knew she had a point. Yes, at Prince Arthur’s command, he would go into battle and slay men. Some of those men were forced, he knew. Some of those men had no choice but to do as told, to kill others, to join an army or a group of people bent on bloodlust… Some of those men were in fact not men, but just boys, barely older than his young sister. Yes, he killed those who didn’t deserve it along with those who did. That simple fact, however, brought him no pleasure. It was something he wasn’t suppose to think about, being a Knight. Something he was suppose to ignore so that he could complete his job and not have his emotions get in the way. And he did it, and he did it well, but in the end, he always regretted the lives lost.

“Do you think that I do not know that?” he asked steadily. “Do you think that I don’t realize that I have to treat death as a trivial thing? That I have to kill men and children even that do not deserve to be killed? Do you think I don’t realize that I have killed young boys only just older than my thirteen year old sister? Do you know how much I want to help them, but can’t, lest they drive their own blade through my heart, or another ‘comrade’ of theirs do the same? I have witnessed death in great numbers, hundreds of innocents slain before my eyes, and I couldn’t help them.” He took a deep breath. “Do you know how that feels, milady? That you are helpless to save those you love? Tell me, milady, what should I do?”

He was, of course, referring to many of his battles. Yet, he was also referring to the times he spent in his home town in Mercia… And that last, fateful day, the day his mother was killed was a large brigade of bandits composed by his father, and his mother’s vile parents. The day that many innocent people – men, women and children alike – were killed, and he couldn’t protect them. He met the challenge in her eyes with a flat stare, blank stare; trying to show that he meant every word he said exactly how he said them.

“A walk?” he asked when she told him her reason for being in the forest. “A fair enough reason, even if I wouldn’t have chosen this place as my choice to take a walk.” With ravenous giant spiders, bloodthirsty men, and just general abnormities in nearly all of the creatures within, he would have only chosen this place for a walk if he wanted a “horror-filled” walk. “Though, I guess a group of giant spiders is probably something on the nicer side of the monsters within.”

And then he was carrying her towards the horse, his attempt at grabbing her and throwing her over his back successful. Of course, she was shouting at him and beating against his back, but still, he was successful. And than she said she was carrying. He nearly stopped walking from his surprise, and indeed, he did start to turn pink from embarrassment, but he quickly gained control of his emotions. Fine, he wouldn’t carry her over his back. She didn’t want that? Alright – though he prayed, if she did indeed tell the truth about carrying, that he hadn’t killed the thing! – he would give her her wish. At least, part of it.

“I fear for the father,” he commented, referring to her general attitude and assumptions about things. “Alright, as you command, my lady,” and with that, he shifted his weight so that he made a small jump – his feet never leaving the ground, of course – and along with that, tossed her up just slightly so that he could easily “toss her over his arm” as she called it. “There we have it. Is that better?” he asked, giving her a mischievous grin. What, she wanted him to put her down so that she could run away or just refuse to use the horse he offered? If she wanted to play hard, he would play hard too, it was as simple as that.

After all, he did have a younger sister.

He could only imagine how Arthur had felt when he had called out to him -- for his own voice hurt even his own head! -- but when Kolby called out, it was a whole new thing altogether. He brought his hands to his head as he fought off a dizzying spell that swarmed down upon him from the Knight's loud voice. Finally shaking his head, Richard looked over at the man, and nodded his own greeting, "Kolby." When Arthur spoke up, though, he found himself more readily to stand by the Prince's side. After all, he had the same headache as him, and it did appear that Kolby was much better off than them. "That's just it, he's not normal, my lord," he spoke humorously. "You obviously hold your own better than us," he added with a hint of intrigue coated with just a slight irritation from all the loud noise. "You seem better off that we do."

And then his features crossed from a cringe, into a reluctant stare at the object Kolby held out. "Don't ask what's in it?" he asked incredulously. "What is in it?!" His reaction time was much slower than usual, and he didn't think he really would have moved much had they been at their normal peak, so when Kolby clapped him on the back roughly -- albeit friendly -- he almost fell over. He groaned at the new dizzy spell, and shot another slight annoyed glare at him. He snatched the bag from him, and stood up straight. Wrinkling his nose, he looked back at the Knight. "Cure me? I fear it might do quite the opposite! And perhaps I don't want hair on my chest, Kolby!"

At Arthur's "orders", Richard rolled his eyes with a sigh. Well, it appeared that, if they were ever to determine exactly what this beverage was, then someone would have to drink it. And as the new appointed "taste tester" it seemed he was the only one who would. Well, Kolby might, but would that really get them anywhere? "Well, if I die, I won't be missing ya," he joked, giving a slight smile now. Taking one more look at the thing in his hand, trying his best not to smell it in fear it would knock him out or sicken him, he raised it as if in a toast. "If I die, Kolby, I'm coming back to haunt you. Well, to your health, my lord!" And with one quick motion -- before he lost the nerve to do so --, he downed part of the contents.

When she commented that she was hardly a fair lady, Richard sighed. He was almost tempted to say “You’re right, you’re not,” to her stubborn attitude, but he managed to hold that in check. Why did she insist on deny that he was any help at all? The spiders had been a pain; surely they were at least a slight problem for her? He took a deep breath at her incredulous words and shook his head. “Perhaps, but none appeared other than you. Therefore, you were, and are, my primary concern, my lady.” Yes, she may be determined to annoy him, but he wouldn’t let her if he had his say in things!

The more time he spent with her, however, the more he was sure that she would wind up getting closer and closer to her goal. He would just have to be careful what he said around her. Perhaps she wouldn’t think of anything to say against him, then. Every person had their breaking point, because everyone had their secrets or could only handle so much before they gave up hold out in a fit. He didn’t pride himself on that anger, as anger frequently led to rash decisions. Therefore, he preferred only to allow his anger out when it would benefit him and those he cared for. The last time he had fully let his anger out was when his mother had been killed because of his father. He had gone and searched for the man, putting aside his mother’s wishes for him to become a Knight in Camelot, and literally hunted the hated man down. When he had found him, the source of many of his life’s problems, he had betrayed his self-named honor and killed the man on the road.

He wasn’t proud of that, yet at the same time, he felt that his father’s death was justified. So, all in all, it was a rather confusing bunch of emotions indeed. But that had been the last time he had been the angriest, and that led him to having to keep this a secret. For his father had been a well respected noble, and from what he had gathered, he was working for his mother’s parents, who wanted her dead for some bizarre reason – it should have been the other way around, they should have wanted his father dead, as he was the one who took their daughter away from Camelot in the first place. But alas, some people just reeked of contradiction.

When she agreed to let him come with her, despite being arrogant, he gave her another polite smile. “Thank you, milady, I assure you that you will be in safe hands.” He glanced around, and then added, “Did you not bring a horse?” No worries, if she hadn’t, she could use his. They would just have to backtrack a little ways and find where he had left his. Either way they would have to, though, as he would not leave the horse in these woods alone.

Richard didn’t miss the woman’s grimace at his words. Well, could he blame her? More spiders would be a bad thing indeed! No one liked spiders, at least… no one he knew. He also knew, from what he had already deciphered of her, that she wouldn’t be thanking him for coming to her aid. That much didn’t bother him, however. He wasn’t the type that needed thanks, though he would have humbly accepted them had she offered them. He would have helped anyone had they been in the same predicament, so surely he didn’t need any!

The more he studied her, however, the more he was actually glad to have stumbled upon the woman. Despite her proud-to-be attitude, he liked her – did he love her? No, he just met her! Though he couldn’t deny her beauty – but he liked her strong personality. She was skilled with a sword, and admirable trait, and confident. And he respected that, especially in a noble woman such as herself – for surely she was! Yet still, despite her words, he would not leave. How “honorable” he would appear if he just left the lady alone in these woods!

“Milady, I fear I cannot do as you request,” he said, though he knew fully well it wasn’t a request. He gave her a small bow. “Please, allow me to escort you to where you head. These woods are dangerous, even for someone as skilled as you are.” As an afterthought, he added, “I’m Richard Vawdrey, Knight of Camelot,” as he realized he hadn’t introduced himself yet. He hoped that he could get her name, though if she didn’t want to tell him, he would respect that.

Standing in the room of his chambers, Richard stood in front of a water basin of cold water. Usually, it would have been warm, but not this day. There were a hundred knights marching around outside his room in their noisiest armor! Or perhaps that was just his head throbbing. He had never imagined it was so possible to drink so much wine and other beverages of the same sort! And to get so drunk off it! Oh yes, his head hurt indeed!

He couldn't recall most of the night's events. He remembered Arthur being crowned, and then there being a celebration. But after that.... He couldn't remember much of anything after a certain part through it. Shaking his head slightly, he splashed his face with the cold water over and over, trying to clear his head without much success. Finally he just gave up and got fully dressed in light armor before heading out for the arena to get some practice. Though how helpful that would be in this condition he knew not...

When he got to the field is when he saw Arthur. He smiled a little before heading towards him. "Oi, milord!" he called to try and get the Prince's attention. He was quite sure that the man would also be hungover, knowing that he had to have drank also, and not doubting for a second that the Prince drank equally as much -- or perhaps more -- as him.

So what was Richard Vawdrey, a Knight of Camelot, doing in the Forests of Balor anyway? Well, it had originally started off as a trip to see his family in Mercia, well... what was left of it, at least. His mother had died in a raid, whereas his father had been directly killed by him because he was one of the people behind his mother's death. So the only members of his family that he knew of where his grandparents in Camelot -- not that he particularly spent any time with either group, especially his mother's side -- and his Twin brother and younger sister. However, that trip had gone awfully wrong when he had been attacked by bandits. The group of bandits didn't survive, but... well one had gotten off with his seal marking him of nobility, and while the whole of Camelot, or at least those who mattered, knew of his nobility, he didn't think he should let the bandit get off with it.

So here he was... Or rather, here he was now. He had successfully stopped the bandit and gotten his seal back, and was now on his way back to Camelot, because he was too many days off his original schedule, Mercia being on the other side of Camelot. So, traveling through the Forests of Balor on a chestnut brown mare, Richard reined the horse to a stop at a noise. Or at least, he thought he heard a noise. He swung a leg over and off of his horse and led it by the reins to a tree. Quietly, listening to his surroundings, he tied the horse to a tree and headed towards the noise. Scuffling? The sound of something crawling or walking across the forested ground? No, it had to be more than something, it was more then one for him to actually hear it.

Slowly, quietly, pulling his sword from its sheath, Richard crept closer and closer, keeping to the trees. As he got closer, he saw a woman, though rather on the shorter side, as the spiders weren't that smaller than her. Spiders? Oh hell... And they seemed to have her outnumbered. He should go help! He told himself. Rushing up, he came up from behind and swung his sword at the nearest spider, hacking off one of its hairy legs.

"Need some assistance?" he asked, confident that he could help, but not overly confident. She stood a better chance against these spiders if she had help.