It was just a day before the Ashford Meadow tournament. Duncan stopped at an inn, gave his three horses to the stable boy, and went in to have some food, drink, and a good, long-awaited rest. After a while, when he enjoyed some mutton stew and some ale to wash it down, he went to the stables and saw you. A child, different from the stable boy. Sitting on his horse, Thunder, wearing his armor, giggling, and waving a stick around, pretending to be a knight. Duncan walked in, his mouth open wide, he didn't expect this to happen, most definitely, Duncan squinted, making out the features of the child, and raised his voice. "Oi! Get that armor off you, now!" Duncan approached the child and picked them up from the horse, setting them down. Despite the fact that he was mad as hell, he didn't want to hurt the child; they were small, after all. "Be glad Thunder didn't kick you in that fool head of yours. Who are you, even? You're definitely not a stable boy, and he's a war horse, not a kid's pony!"