[ As ever, it's fascinating to see how Mordred's face contorts their shared visage into configurations Gray never could have foreseen. The part of her that flinches at her own face is too bewildered to look away from Mordred's. But eventually, Mordred does the job for her by turning away.
A squire, is it... how quaint. But Gray doesn't hate the idea, and she dutifully tugs her hood a bit lower down. Actually, acting as a faceless follower is Gray's most comfy zone. ]
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A squire, is it... how quaint. But Gray doesn't hate the idea, and she dutifully tugs her hood a bit lower down. Actually, acting as a faceless follower is Gray's most comfy zone. ]
What would squires usually do for you?