Markiplier Moments

M'lady (Part 3)

The deeper the Prince and his steed went into the woods the more unfamiliar his surroundings became. He came prepared; a small machete in hand to wick away any brush obstructions. He put his helmet on midway when he noticed the horse waver from a steady speed, the reason slapping him across the face - quite literally - thick leafy vines webbing a vague swirling trail, snapping back without remorse. Thankfully they weren't thorned, or else the Prince's innocent baby face would resemble that of a nomadic psychopath to whomever he ran across.

Back at the Kingdom's edge he was reminded of when he and Thomas would run off on adventures through the woodline. As a child it felt much larger and grander than in reality where it was only, at best, a mile of ground coverage. Memories of exploring the creek he'd hurdled over a bit ago, capturing lizards and frogs and attempting to raise them, falling and scraping a rock that left a lasting scar on his elbow, all poured into his mind. He even passed by one of their old forts made from shards of a fallen tree. The still standing image brought a grin to the Prince's cheeks, how could it withstand the better part of a decade of weathering with the constructional foundation of 6 year olds? Who can tell.

A few small game scurried around Daisy's walking hooves, nothing more than a rabbit or a squirrel. These were definitely hunting grounds. Perfect cubbies for people to perch high in trees and wait for possibly hours at a time were everywhere - Mark recognized this because he spent a bit of time hunting as an adolescent. It'd been years since he'd killed a deer and brought it back to the castle for a roast supper. In the shadows, a slight nudge that someone was watching him trek through the forest kept him on edge in the same way as hunting. It made him watch around, he hoped no one would get trigger happy and strike him or the horse with a crossbow.

The Prince of Ohiland was a humble one, but these new feelings of extra edge and defensiveness opened his eyes, forcing him to notice the hedge of comfort he constantly had supporting his weight. A posh security that he involuntarily took for granted as royalty.

With more distance walked, the woods seemed to open its arms and grow wider. Random intricate designs of sunlight passed through branches above and casted shadows of art on the forest floor. Mark slowed his horse and looked around for a moment, absorbing the air. He smiled. A peek into what looked like small wooden buildings or houses ahead drew him in closer, with caution of course.

He was portraying a complete stranger after all.

Gently, he guided Daisy out of the forest completely and kept his armored head somewhat low to avoid any immediate suspicion. He squinted his eyes at the sudden burst of pure unclouded light as they focused on this community he was now in. His first thoughts went to how different things looked initially; teenagers hauled lumber behind shacks, shepherds herded livestock in the distance with the bellows of sheep and cows as background noise, and children playfully chased each other around. People were dressed in clothing of even less value than his own attire, mostly of tattered homemade looking shirts and trousers.

This wasn't exactly what the Prince expected. He knew the people were poor, his mother and father always lended their hand to those less fortunate. But he had never seen the life they lived.

He quickly scanned the area in a tizzy when the obvious realization he needed somewhere casual to hold his horse kicked in since, it would be illogical to trot around the town on a big golden steed. No one else was doing this and his current goal was to blend in. He'd been fighting the obligation to speak to anyone right away but now he had few options.

A few feet ahead was a young rustically dressed shepherd who carried himself up a hill, dragging his arm across his dirt dusted forehead with exhaustion. The hot sun seemed to beam directly down on the poor soul's tired red cheeks. He seemed like a safe option to Mark; the man was visibly unarmed and not of very large build. Mark steadily tried to lift the man's hanging head with his intensive gaze, never looking away as he swiftly hopped off his horse and guided her over. "Pardon me sir?" the Prince's announcing voice came out strong and defined against all other ongoing noises.