Marcus sighed leaning back against the gate, the sun was retreating now, but seriously he’d had enough. Every day the same thing, no variety, no spice of life, nothing. Just stand in the hot sun and watch the commoner’s flit in and out.
Ok, occasionally someone barfed on his foot, sometimes the knights got shirty, and he waved his pike around threateningly, sometimes the wenches stopped to chat … but usually this was all he got. How, sweaty, and bored.
“Hey Marcus,” At his mate’s words he looked up.
“A wooden horse … how cool.”
The day was looking up.