Hushed Willows Pray that Hell or Heaven lets you in

Somehow he had separated from the voluptuous young woman beneath the willows (@Aerasha), more than likely ditched by her on purpose considering how ridiculous and overbearing he could be.

He did not let himself mope for too long though. His father would never have approved such displays of emotion, and while Tiffany was free enough to let himself feel what he wished, dream what he dared, and pursue whatever avenue lay open to him - he could not shake the feeling that he was a disappointment to the man. By now the Lord and Lady of Cairn-Dyfed would be wondering what became of him. And should word return to them that he was here, crying woefully to himself in the wilderness, having lost his first proper charge as a knight, well -- that would not do. Stiff upper lip, and all of that.

And so we come to Tiffany now. He is sniffling, and would eagerly assert that it was merely the biting winter wind affecting his eyes; that maybe he has become so downtrodden as a rogue that he is set upon by illness. He would not openly weep - he was a man, a knight, after all - however, Tiffany was oblivious to the fey woman drifting through the wood. After one particularly loud snnnkksn of his sniffling snout, it would be nearly impossible for him to pass by without being found.