May 17, 2014 14:04
comment!fest, obscure & british
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“Have it,” sneered Mordred. “It’s naught but a stinking couch - a fit resting place for a peasant.”
Ancelyn smiled. “Ah, and doubtless a worm like you is used to lying on the floor.”
“I shall stand. I am not a weakling in want of sleep.”
“But does not Mordred the mother’s boy need a blanket for comfort?”
The bed they left untouched and spent the night exchanging insults.
“Knights,” said the jailor outside, shaking his head.
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