Open | Action: What is a sally if not another word for adventure? (literally)

[hildago]

While there had been no flower-borne sickness for Don Quixote, nor another kind of sickness (which really, might have been the death of the old man, what with his missing teeth and chinked ear). So, today, the weather only finds the Knight Errant on the back of his fair, sway-backed steed, Rocinante, the hooves clip-clopping along the streets, in search of adventure.

That there can be no true monsters, or dragons, doesn't occur to him. After all, what is a Knight without adventure? (Besides a crazy old man?)

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[hildago]

Even if this dragon were to speak Spanish, there would be the chance that Don Quixote would not understand her. After all, he is not the most diligent of listeners.

Let us not even contemplate the idea that it would be a talking animal.

"You dare not try to intimidate me!" he says of the smoke. It finally occurs to him to dismount and he does, only very nearly falling but not falling, to once again brandish his sword. "It is the Knight's duty protect and to fight danger!"

[skysung]

This time her snort is less angry and more... nonplussed, scoffing both at the clumsy dismount and at the word 'dare'. Kitten once scolded the god of war and justice because she felt he was being unfair to her adoptive mother. Suffice to say that she would dare speak her mind to and attempt intimidation on anyone she so chose.

To protect who, from what danger? Kitten poses no danger to anyone except perhaps Don Quixote right now. She was minding her own business, thank you. Though she probably shouldn't bait him, her comments on the fact that at least he's finally had the sense not to attack anyone so low to the ground from atop the back of a horse have a goading tone to them.

Not that he seems to need the encouragement.

[hildago]

"Are you, perhaps, magic?" Quixote asks, nonplussed himself for the moment. He does tend to get confused, after all.

"The question then becomes, of course, if you are made of good magic or bad magic. Both can be powerful, of course. But it would be my preference for you to be of good magic. But you are a dragon, which means you must be made of bad magic."

[skysung]

She nods emphatic agreement at the question about magic, chirping encouragement at the sudden cease of attack. For dragons, magic is a sense every bit as real as sight or smell. She is magic, and has been managing very basic spells since her first year of life.

The noises Kitten makes after Quixote moves on to assuming that dragons are inherently bad, however, can only be described as rude. It doesn't take understanding of words to figure out that she takes great offense at that.

[hildago]

Alas, Don Quixote isn't one for listening to men, let alone the sounds of a dragon. He goes on as if it is a monologue and not a dialogue.

"There are dragons discussed in the great books of Romance," he muses. "Often vaquished by the great knights. If I were to wish to be written about, I need to vanquish a dragon."

Clearly.

[skysung]

Kitten's running very low on patience, and her smoky snort now is derisive. There are all kinds of ways to get into books. There are so many flaws in this logic that she doesn't even know where to start.

The thing is, she still doesn't actually want to hurt him. (Well, maybe a little. She's never had a very good rein on her temper, not with as young as she is.) Mama and Papa would be so upset with her if she ever harmed someone in anything but absolutely necessary self defense. Kitten would be disappointed in herself too, after the fact, but that wouldn't put anyone back together.

She makes a sound that bears the most resemblance to a human taunting raspberry. Apparently she's giving up all attempts at maturity over on her end of things.

[hildago]

Having decided that the best way to be remembered as a Knight Errant is to render a dragon into the past tense, Don Quixote goes to pull his sword from the scabbard.

Which is all well and good except that his scabbard, hobbled together from various bits and bobs, doesn't want to let go (perhaps it knows something Quixote doesn't).

He yanks and yanks, to no avail.