Percival the Fair
The air around Percival suddenly turned cold, making the Knight stop his work for a minute as he regarded the sky. The clouds were by now racing along, the first chills of the winter season were beginning to blow into Camelot. He had been working on repairing the road for a few hours now. He enjoyed doing the practical chores which Arthur encouraged his Knights to do. It was about putting something back for the ordinary folk. The main road into the Kingdom had been battered by the first winter storms. It made it difficult for those arriving into Camelot, to transport their goods into the citadel.
Percival and his group of men had been working for the past week, the Knight was pleased with the work they'd undertaken. He reckoned another two days they would almost be finished. He decided to take a break for five minutes. As he lay back against the bank, he let his eyes drift close for a few seconds. Suddenly, he was transported back to another time, another place. He was in his small home village, surrounded by his beloved family. His mother, brother and most of all the father he worshipped.
He smiled, as he thought about the story his father would tell him about how one day, Percival would become a Knight on a fiery steed. He shook his head as once again, as he realised his ultimate dream had actually come true. Alas though, his father did not live to see him become a Knight of Camelot. He had lost his family to raiders one winter's evening. It had devastated him, turning his world upside down. To the little boy back then, the dream of becoming a Knight had by then become almost impossible.
The grunt of his horse Sancha startled him, bringing him back into the present. He got up and checked around, his suspicion suddenly aroused. But after a few minutes he realised there was nothing to worry about. He reassured his horse with a few gentle words. There was nothing fiery about Sancha, her character was more subdued. A bit like Percival himself. As he considered things, he realised that all the horses somehow resembled the Knights themselves.
Leon's magnificent horse Banjorei, was as direct and bold as Leon himself was, always ready to take control when he had too. Lancelot's mount Kerday, was quiet not unlike Lancelot himself, but resolute when he had to be. Gwaine's horse Brutish was skittish but brave and every bit as loud as Gwaine. Elyan's mount Araina was adventurous always daring to go, where the others did not want too. Then there was Arthur's beautiful stallion Hextor, a huge beast who always led the group as impressively as Arthur, and was possibly even braver.
The group wasn't complete without Merlin of course. His mare Urisha was both nervous but incredibly fast. She had been through numerous scrapes but had always brought Camelot's sorcerer home safely. It was often said a Knight was only as complete as the horse beneath him. As he lay back and considered things, he realised they had all picked their mounts very well.