Corryn woke up to the early morning lively activity of the camp. The Laughing Knives were busy preparing breakfast - but there was one notable omission from those bustling around - Limosa.
"Bollocks and damnation," he muttered, feeling the throb in the back of his head. He got up and dressed, wandering over to the fire-pit where a greasy breakfast was being prepared. He settled on some potage and bread, rather than the meats. He didn't want to crap later on in the day.
He sighed faintly as he scanned the camp; Limosa no where to be seen despite the presence of food. He took Volf's arm as the boy passed by in his serving wench outfit. "Do I even want to ask what my daughter is up to this morning, Volf?"
"She broke her fast," said Volf, "and then she went off with another bowl of oatmeal - over there."
He gestured towards the tournament field and the castle beyond.
"She was pretty firm about wanting none of us to go with her," he added. "Blenkon is still cleaning hot oatmeal from the first bowl off his hose."
"Bollocks and damnation," he grumbled, as he buttoned formal tunic. "What god did I offend for them to test me so with that girl?"
He held the bread in his mouth as he struggled to pull on his overcoat. He was forced to mumble, sending bread crumbs flying in all directions. "I need to go find her. We're to meet with the Hardys this morning. Jonas and his mother."
Corryn took a last bite of bread before tossing it into the fire. "Do I look presentable?"
He barely heard the answer as he skipped toward the castle, fighting to straighten his leather boot. He tried to hurry in the hope he could grab Limosa before Celia and her son came looking for him. If they came looking.
Corryn cut through the tourney grounds, nodding politely to those he passed by. He remained keenly aware of each face he passed by, knowing that many were the enemy, or soon would be. And as such, he noticed an odd, thin fellow with extraordinary black hair. He carried a bowl of something in his delicate hands towards the pranger and the prisoner there. It was then that figure turned slightly and he truly recognized his daughter, dressed in her breeches.
"Bollocks and damnation," he muttered, heading in that direction with haste.
"Limosa," he called, perhaps a little too loudly.
Limosa glanced over at him and then away - looking at the prisoner in front of her. Then she was hurrying forward - Corryn had the impression that something she'd seen had disturbed or alarmed her, for Evan Tamm seemed to be doubled over, even as Limosa set the oatmeal down hastily and moved closer to him.