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Hunter's beard wasn't really much more than heavy scruff, days of five o'clock shadow atop each other. He never so much shaved as fought off a full beard; no matter how often he tried, he was always scruffy. So no, his beard would have been no match for the blue splendor that was Bluebeard's.
Hunter shielded his eyes from the sun as the man approached. He was dressed what Hunter would consider an unnecessary flamboyant style, but he wasn't going to hold that against him. The man smelled heavily of spices, and of a sort of bronze color. Hunter could smell him even at a distance, stronger than most. There was something else there he couldn't pinpoint, not from this distance.
"This is Mehrdadstan, stranger," Hunter replied. And then added, "Have you come from the north, across the desert?"
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Hunter's brows furrowed. First, when the man stepped closer, he could smell stronger now, that elusive scent that was hidden beneath the spices. It smelled almost like Amalthea, like Goodfellow, like the Sleeping Woods, the smell Hunter had come to associate with magic. That was interesting.
Second however, and more confusing was what the man had said. Ten minutes from Camlann? "Hunter," he responded stepping forward to shake his hand. "And how may I ask did you manage to come from such a distance as Camlann in a mere ten minutes? It's not nearby at all."
Curious. Hunter was on his way to Camlann again, reluctant to leave, but duty called. It would be most interesting to learn if there was some way to cut his travel time down to nothing.
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Oh. Sorry. Not used to this. His voice came though clear, but much quieter now. I just wanted to say, there's not much to be worried about. I honestly know shit about etiquette and I certainly haven't offended the queen yet. She's... special. And here Hunter's mental voice changed, taking on a pleasant happy, one might say smitten 'tone' to it.
She is very very amicable, and quite fun to speak with. Not to mention beautiful. But yes, I wouldn't worry about offending her at all. The guards are another story. They don't like me much. He didn't add the reason, which was the fact that the queen was too fond of him for their comfort. He walked behind the guards, following familiar steps to the palace.
Scheherazade would be surprised to find he hadn't left yet. He'd tell her he'd spend on more day, due to unforeseen circumstances and surprise her again with an speedy return once he had Howl's boots in hand. Or rather, on foot.
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