(it's not a wild goose chase if it's for god)

[knightgallant]

Although he had been hopeful that the Well of the Chalice would offer some divine insight into his quest --a renewal of one of his visions, or perhaps a sign that he was on the right path-- that Galahad left empty-handed in the end did not surprise him. Many times now he had left holy sites without further clues to his final destination.

He had expected this. He had understood from his very first glimpse of the holy artifact in a waking vision, that finding it would be difficult. It would be a test of his patience, perseverance, and faith. He accepted this, and had instead chosen to practice gratitude for the opportunity to measure the strength of his faith. (After all, a faith untested was a faith unworthy of one of Arthur's men, let alone God.) Very few men would ever witness holy perfection, and it was paramount to him that, as adoptive heir to Arthur's dominion especially, he prove Camelot's devotion to the King of Kings on the court's behalf. He had verbally staked his life on finding the Grail before the entire court, and his resolve to find the artifact was still strong.

Any disappointment he felt, Galahad soothed with the consolation of a quiet meal in the wood outside the Well's chapel. As he ate, he contemplated the worn and dirtied map spread out beside him.

"Where do we ride next?" He idly questioned his horse, in between bites of the bread and cheese the Well's priest had granted him. "We have gone on pilgrimage all the way to this place, and the furthest reaches of Briton and Arthur's domain." The horse twitched an ear in relaxed response, and then turned away from his master to drink from the small river before the knight's feet. "I have heard wild tales of a wood in the north that people say is the last place Saint Hector stood before he ascended to Paradise. Is that not a promising locale?"

The horse's tail flicked at insects buzzing around its hindquarters as he nibbled at reeds growing from the riverbed, but he gave no other response besides that. Smiling, the knight decided to take pity on the beast and grant it some peace. This he offered in silence, along with a pat to the horse's neck. "Eat your fill, Amr. Tomorrow is a long ride."

Comments

[mostoutspoken]

"Gladly." Merek takes a seat across the fire from Galahad and smiles at his companion. He takes hold of his saddlebag and fishes out the apple he did not eat earlier and bites into it. Building the camp took more from him than he had expected. "I have some few provisions as well, though I admit I was hoping the men of this land would not be cross with me if I were to hunt for game for our supper. Know you if anyone would mind if we were to hunt? I do not wish to cause any anger or hurt by my actions if it can be prevented."

[knightgallant]

His new companion is busy and businesslike, Galahad notices, because no sooner are they seated again than is Merek making idle preparations for a hunt. It's a change of pace from Galahad's own more ambling and vision-driven travels on his own, and he reasons that he should be thankful for the other man's efforts, somewhat against the grain of his own comparatively more sedate style of keeping camp as they are-- grateful for them, and also that they're directed in service of their camp, rather than in trying to entreat (or drag...) him home against his will.

"The men and women of the Chapel have no claim on the wildlife of this area, as far as I was able to glean from the congregation's principle father." The young knight leans his cheek into a hand, the other falling to trace idle circles in the loose dirt before him as he speaks. "But we may want to tread carefully, all the same. I could not name it myself, but beyond the Well's holy grove, there is an odd... feeling to this wood and the life in it."

[mostoutspoken]

"Odd? Odd how?" Merek is instantly wary of the use of the word. In the past, his instincts have told him that odd often means wrong in a way that leads someone into trouble (or away from it, if he is able to follow his instincts and guide others away from whatever is giving him that feeling). His brow furrows as he regards Galahad. "Perhaps that means it is best if we avoid hunting until we leave this area, then? I would not wish to disturb anyone, or anything, that might not take kindly to our activities."

[knightgallant]

"I know not how to explain it, exactly." Here he glances up to meet Merek's wary eye. Had it only been he, himself, who had the feeling upon entering the wood-- the feeling like a drop of ice water running down the back of one's neck, of the feeling of there being something almost unearthly within reach? "You did not get a ... sense from this place? Not the grove of the Chapel, but the wood surrounding?"

[mostoutspoken]

At the question, Merek offers a thoughtful frown. "I have little sense when it comes to things magical or spiritual. If I cannot grasp it with my own two hands, I often find myself without answer when it comes to dealing with and oft times even noticing them." His siblings and mother were always much more spiritually inclined while Merek focused more often on the physical and natural aspects of life. He learned of such things, of course, and his heart and soul surely belonged to God, but they are that much more difficult for him to understand.

His frown lasts only a moment longer before he shrugs in Galahad's direction. "It is of little consequence, though. As you have greater experience in such matters, so shall I defer to your judgement. Between the two of us we should have enough provisions to last us until we are able to leave the woods on the morrow, though I would be glad to stop at the nearest town to resupply before we begin our journey in earnest." Merek is nothing if not practical, which he hopes will be a boon to them both as they take a winding path back to Camelot together.