"I've a feeling they've perfected the art of bobbing and weaving by now, Dany."
Astute deductions on her part had him tickled pink, grin barely kept at low-level wattage as he played amiable Watson to Dany's sleuthing Sherlock. All those toffs pacing and fluttering in bright, haute couture plumage was so predictable in a way. People are all the same no matter how many bills they carry in their wallet, Robb decided, crossing leg over knee, his foot starting its trademark bounce of the hyperactive sort. Now that the excitement of the match was over, he wished he could've had a moment to walk over to the stables to chat with the groomsmen about the horses they so lovingly cared for; see for himself what quality breeding of a different kind would produce.
He suspected Dany wouldn't have minded going along too - animals were oftentimes far better company that any upright human.
With this thought still rattling round inside busy bee brainpan, Robb got his first real glimpse of blue- and red-shirted equestrians. They were all quite fit, of course. Uncountable hours spent in the saddle gave them a certain manly swagger from overdeveloped thigh muscles - Wouldn't mind a go with a few of them. - and those upper arms! Enough to drive even a straight bloke mental. Seriously!
And while he'd always go home with Jon, it was still fun to imagine a clandestine shag amongst the haybales. Old habits die hard as we all know, and with Robb's checkered past it was nigh on impossible to turn a blind eye to so many bloody handsome devils.
Discarding those that didn't fall into predetermined favorites, the herd of fantasy "potentials" thinned considerably. That was the trouble with living in California, he'd found. Everyone was either too ethnic (and while he did obviously go for dark and handsome there was something about Latinos and Asians that didn't appeal to him all that much) or far too blonde and far too tan.
"Hey Jon," he said, snagging better half's attention after Lord Stark had wandered off to speak with some rich crumpet or another. "That bloke over there. The one in the scarlet shirt still wearing his helmet... What's his game?