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Post by rh on Apr 28, 2009 7:03:52 GMT 1
[OOC: So um, basically, Guinevere is secretly likes the outlaws and is in desperate need in help. So i'm sort of creating drama here.]
Guinevere ran out of her father's grip and into the forest of greenery. She was lost. She was confused. She did not know what to do. No - she did not want to marry Noah at such a young age. But yet she said yes. How foolish of her mankind! She kept running and running. Their marriage was only coming up soon and she was seriously not ready. She had to stay away, far.
As she ran, her dress danced behind her and long, beautiful brown hair swifted with the breeze. She paused for breath - trying to catch it, she leaned upon a tree trunk and watched another tree in front of her being. She hoped her father would not find her in such a place.
She glanced down at her satanic silk gown. Not knowing what to do. She began walking further into the forest - but all of a sudden she had bumped into someone..
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Post by roryna on Apr 29, 2009 23:49:13 GMT 1
Allan was absentmindedly walking in the forest, thoughts of the recent twist in his own situation filling his mind as he proceeded through the endless green.
As usual of lately when he found himself alone, the outlaw started to carefully consider his options. What was he to do? Keeping betray the gang to Guy until he could avoid revealing him their most important information? Or was there a possibility of redemption? Of fully coming back to the lads?
A sigh escaped his lips; he hadn't meant to become so tangled in this mess.
He distractedly ran a hand through his short hair; after all there was nothing he could do at present. Perhaps it was better for him to turn on his way and get back to the camp before the others started to wonder where he had disappeared to.
Not that taking a walk on his own was something that needed to be hidden, but lately he had needed to find several excuses... and it was better not to press the matter of his odd behavior.
Though, before he could do so, he suddenly collided with something... the unexpected blow sprinting him backwards.
Still taken aback, he soon realized he wasn't the one suffering the worst from the collision when he noticed a girl at his feet.
That was the something running straight into his chest.
She looked young... he couldn't have said exactly how old she was, but surely younger than either Anya or Marian. Judging from her clothes she surely wasn't a peasant... much the opposite, actually. Though, noticing the lost expression on her delicate face, any idea of robbing a rich disappeared from his mind.
He instinctively outstretched his hand toward the girl; after all he had almost knocked her down.
"May I help you?" He asked, swiftly looking around as if to check this wasn't a trap.
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Post by rh on Apr 30, 2009 17:30:26 GMT 1
In the blink of an eye, there he was, her savior - wait, she didn't even become aquainted with this man. He helped her up - my, what a gentlemen. She kept her eyes still on him wondering what or whom he was. Something about him just clicked inside of her. Oh my - wasn't he? No he couldn't be. The outlaw? All his wanted posters were stuck everywhere in Nottingham.
"T-thank you, sir." She struggled at her words. "That was very pleasant of you." She gave him a warm-hearted smile. No, she didn't mind outlaws at all - but her father, that was on gigantic problem. One of his major irks - outlaws.
Hmm, he looked quite decent in her perspective. Her eyes met with his. "Guinevere Wineberg. And yes sir, i do know of your name. Sir Allan A Dale, is it? Yes I have seen your posters almost everywhere in Nottingham. It has been irking me, though." She kept her smile on.
"And oh!" She exclaimed. "Thank you. You saved me from the horrors - and so therefore I must repay you with something." Everything had cleared through her mind and she was quite happy. "But one favor, sir, take me away from that place. Nottingham. I'm not supposed to be there. Please, sir, I beg of your help." She pleaded.
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Post by roryna on May 2, 2009 23:08:17 GMT 1
“And yes sir, I do know of your name. Sir Allan A Dale, is it?”
Allan’s chest was already starting to puff up with pride… being called "Sir" wasn’t something he heard everyday.
Especially not when you were an outlaw living in the forest.
…Not that in his previous experiences he had been addressed as "Sir" more often, but that was another story.
The main point was that such a fine lady had just called him so, and he wasn’t one to let the compliment pass unnoticed.
He was halfway grinning at her when he finally understood the meaning of her following words… she knew his name. She knew who he was. She knew he was one of the most wanted men in the whole Nottingham; standing before her right in that very moment.
If the sheriff came out right then with a bunch of guards, laughing at his stupidity, he wouldn’t have blamed them. Alright, it wasn’t like he had approached the girl on his own accord, but perhaps he should have been more careful.
He tried to swiftly glance around, looking out for any suspect movement in the bushes surrounding them… movements that didn’t came, though. Slightly reassured, he focused on the young lady before him once again.
“Well I must look really handsome on those posters if they’re everywhere,” he chuckled. Her reaction though definitely took him aback as she started to desperately plead.
“But one favor, sir, take me away from that place. Nottingham. I'm not supposed to be there. Please, sir, I beg of your help."
Wait. Was she asking him for help?
Him, the wanted outlaw.
She must have been really desperate to seek his help if she was aware of his identity and yet…
This made Allan look at her in anxiety, offering her his hand once again. She was talking of horrors… he didn’t know what she was referring to, but surely he couldn’t leave her there.
“What are you running from?” He asked in genuine curiosity; then a sudden recollection stopped him on the spot, eyeing the damsel in distress with a solemn expression. “You said you know who I am… are you sure you want my help?”
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