Before he could ask what they were about, he noticed the sudden silence of the crowd assembled for the joust. Curious, he followed. Such cognitive matters claimed his wits more oft than naught. He supposed it to be a flaw in his soul. As they approached the lists, a single feminine voice talking of knights and ladies floated toward them on the wind. Two of the men elbowed one another and estimated that the voice must have been attached to a beautiful face in order to gain the vast assemblage’s attention thus. Satisfied, the two made their way back to their dressing tents, all the while teasing the others about the fair maiden and who could win her. Devin moved to a place where he could get a closer look at the young lady. It was times such as this that he was glad to be a head taller than most of the men. A slight breeze blew a few strands of hair across his eyes. He smoothed the hair away from his face and swept his hand over his whiskers, scratching as he went. He focused in on the visage that belonged to the melodious voice and held his breath in order to still the mesh-against-metal noise his chain mail made when it rubbed against his tassets.
