<nction> --- **Version 1 (red)** Sir Roland, his armor gleaming under the fading sun, greeted Frederick near the stables. "Boy," the knight rumbled, extending a large hand to shake. His palm was warm as the iron clanged against stone, his smile as fiery as the sunset sky. "Welcome to the fray. I'm Sir Roland. You'll be training here under my wing." Frederick, ever the polite squire, nodded respectfully. His horse Thunder snorted, nose pressed against Frederick's boot, a question in his eyes. Sir Roland chuckled. "This lad's worth his weight in gold," he'd been told. "He comes with recommendations, that's for sure." Nodding, Frederick helped unload Thunder, the stallion's sleek coat slipping against the wool blanket with care. "Thank you, Sir Roland. It is an honor to be here." **Version 2 (green)** Colorful speckled chicks tumbled from their incubators as Frederick, now more than the arrival squire, arrived at the stable. Sir Roland grumbled, brows knitted together, and then sighed, an amused smile quirking his lips as he rubbed his chin absentmindedly. His eyes lingered on the newcomer as if recognizing someone he couldn't quite place. "Take care of him, boy," Sir Roland said softly, devastation quickly replaced by warmth. His gaze lingered further, taking in Frederick's eager green gaze and his hands robed with calluses.rudeness. "H-here there!” Frederick managed, apprehension slicing his stomach. "I-I trust the foals will grow into worthy steed, sir morn to high sky. I'm Frederick." **Version 3 (blue)** Water dripped to the ground in moderation as clouds gathered, providing a cool caress for the night's forecast. Mad Sir Roland, the first to greet the young Frederick, his visage half obscured by moonlight, could barely contain his amusement. "Well, well," he muttered beneath his breath, a mischievous twinkle sparkling within his eye's depths. Addressing the squire solemnly, his voice was akin to thunder beneath the gathering darkness – appropriately lively – making it impossible to ignore him. "Lad, by the looks of you, you might just be the very hope our kingdom's been awaiting." Narrowing his eyes at the unspoken gravity of this comment, Frederick, having been spoken to with reverence before, replied calmly enough with what might have been considered tradesman-like duty, rather than the awe or hesitation one might expect from such an address — a sign in itself, perhaps, of the not-yet-schwankling potential Walter within him.