Anabeg stands in front of a mirror, blood was on her face and she was trying to get it off, of course it wasn't her blood, no, her husband would never lay a hurting hand on her, this was the blood of one of his nobles, after they failed him. Anabeg wished he would be calmer when confronting nobles, it's always so hard to get their blood out of her fur "Blasted combs, soap doesn't do shit either" Anabeg said in frustration, her face still stained with dried blood, she grumbled a little but stopped as she noticed her husband's snoring has stopped, she never accidentally woke up Wryndyn, but she did now, and the thought of her husband never laying a hurting hand on her went out the window as she thought that a grumpy, woken sergal, that was hung over probably wouldn't care about a promise "Oh God, please stay asleep" Anabeg whispered quietly, begging any and all God or Gods out there that her husband would stay in bed, or at least remember his promise in his hung over state