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Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya gave a sigh, stretching her cramped fingers for a moment before continuing her needlework. Humming silently in tune to each stitch, she rocked back and forth, lost in her work - only when a stranger's voice interrupted her thoughts did she break from the trance.

"Pardon me.. " the voice was soft, yet seemed loud in the still silence of the small room.

Nadya lifted gray eyes, taking in the newcomer. She stood straight and poised despite her lack of obvious height. Fiery red hair fell in well groomed waves to the stranger's back. She was bedecked in dark, black clothing made of, what she noted as, fine material and leather. She held a black kasa in her gloved hands and dark green eyes peered back at her with a gentle curiosity.

Nadya stood, painting on the smile she reserved for strangers. She noticed, even though the stranger was short, she was a couple inches taller than her.

"'ow can I 'elp ya?" her voice was tight, clipped but the feigned smile stayed in place. She hadn't expected any customers this late in the evening, but business was business. Nadya did not ask the strangers name, she was not one to pry, only being concerned with the matter at hand.

"I apologize for it being so late but I am looking for a new tailor. I heard you were the best." the strangers voice had no hint of an accent, words perfectly formed, betraying her etiquette and obvious schooling.

"'eard did ya?" Nadya set down her needlework, moving around the front of the counter. She didn't like the idea of people talking, especially of her.

The stranger gave a graceful shrug in response, offering an almost apologetic smile.

"My sister was here once before and praised your exquisite craftmanship. I have a.. weakness.. for beautiful clothing."

Nadya accepted the statement, unable to flesh out lie or truth on the stranger's perfectly masked face.

"Alrigh', I can manage tha' I thin'" Nadya forced the smile, moving over to an arranged assortment of hats, scarves, and gloves.

Together, they sorted over the selection, conversation never straying beyond the talk of merchandise. The stranger was cordial, bordering on friendly, replying with the appropriate response to every question Nadya threw her way. She placed a small order, ordering another hat but thank goodness, Nadya thought to herself, it wasn't black.

She found the color dull and un-lively, never being able to bear wearing it upon her own person.

"I shoul' 'ave this done wit'in tha' week." Nadya said to the stranger, after their business was concluded.

"A week it is then.. and thank you.." the stranger paused, giving a questioning look.

"Nadya.." she supplied, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Adara" the stranger replied, the word rolling smoothly off her tongue in a well practice manner.

Nadya nodded, walking her to the door. She gave a simple wave as she saw the Lady out, for it was apparent that's what she indeed was, some form of upper gentile. Gathering up her sack, she left the shop, securing the door as best she could behind her.

Looking up, she took note of the small structure, noting the shabbiness of the building. Yet, among the other debilitated structures it blended in perfectly.

She walked east quickly, this part of the town wasn't exactly dangerous but it had its characters every now and then. She didn't want or need any more trouble that people already gave her.

She cleared the outer areas of the city, merging like a shadow into the forest. Her ears picked up the faint sound of waves lapping against the shoreline, the smell of the salty sea in the air, and the midnight murmuring's of the many woodland creatures.

She knew the way by heart, walking this route daily from shop to home and back. The faint glow of fires against the darkness greeted her eyes, along with a large pack of whining dogs. They growled at first before recognizing her scent, bounding about with tongues lolling forth to administer wet kisses on her hands.

She patted them affectionately as she passed, giving the first genuine smile all day. The clearing was rather large in size, crowded with small shanties, large caravans, and a ring of campfires outside many. Camp sounds assaulted her senses - the barking of dogs, whinny of horses, crying of children, the reprimand of a father, and gentle whisper of a mother. The smells were by far her favorite - wild, open wilderness mingled with smoky burnt wood, a myriad of different foods being cooked, and the faint smell of man.

She skirted the camp, making her way to the small shanty on the outskirts that was her home. It too was small, built of simple patched pieces of wood, the windows covered with a mismatch of quilts. The caravan outside was bare, lacking a covering and also a wheel. The weather had managed to make it look more wind battered and rain sodden than it actually was.

The house was dark, dingy light flooding the smoke filled room as she built back up the fireplace. Anything to help rid the air of pervading sickness that seemed to make its presence always known, an intruder amongst the clean air.

She removed her shawl, laying down on a small cot that occupied the corner of the room. It wasn't much but.. it was her home and all that she knew.

************************************************************

Adara sat crouched, watching Nadya enter the small shanty from a safe distance - away from the prying eyes of people and raucous howl of the camps' semi-feral dog pack.

This was the second week she had been following the young girl, every waking evening spent stalking, studying, and observing every aspect of the girls outward nature. Adara had been in the shop more than once, despite the girls ignorance, carefully guised as different characters so as to take note of how the girl handled herself with strangers.

She had also witnessed from the gloom - noting the girls public demeanor of reserved, polite, friendliness. Yet when she saw her alone or amongst other Rom she was open, independent, flirtatious, and laughed with a naivety that gave exhibition to her youthfulness.

As soon as Adara saw her, she had to have her. Not in a romantic way, but as a survival instinct, silently rewarding and yearning for those characteristics in her childer. It had taken days of searching, but she finally found her.

And one way or another, she would have her. For she was Lasombra, and of House Draven, and winning was the only option she gave herself.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya finished the simple sketch, holding it afar to cast an admiring glance. She had seen it in her dreams - something bright, fashionable, but most of all not black. She dare not see that ghastly color muddling up her masterpiece. With a sigh of satisfaction she placed her sketchbook in a drawer, securing it with a key she wore about her neck. She gathered her shawl, tucking it tight around her shoulders as she exited the shop - a suitable response to the pounding wind. Her stride was brisk, despite her lack of obvious height, and soon her family's small homestead was within view.

No dogs greeted her this day, preferring to cower beneath the caravans in response to the thunder reverberating in the distance. Feeling the beginning drops of rain, she ran inside the home, closing the door with a great slam. She laughed to herself, the sound bubbling up and out of her throat in what resembled childish glee. She always felt free, lighthearted, when she ran.

Her mother greeted her with a tsking sound, wrapping her in a warm embrace before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Sastismos, Chakano" Nadya smiled at the formal greeting, intermingled with the nickname her mother had bestowed on her since childhood. It meant, star, for that is how her mother thought she shone - brightly. She returned the kiss, stepping back to eye her mother.

Mirela Petulengro stood at an exact five feet, her pear shape much more pronounced than her daughters - aftermath of birthing two children. They had the same chestnut hair, the only variance being a slight graying had started discoloring her mother's temples. She had a soft face with smile lines forming around her mouth and eyes. Her eyes were a pale blue - the love and laughter she had for life shining forth for the world to see.

'You are home early Chakano" her mother called, moving away to stir a large pot upon the stove. The smell of garlic pervaded the air, Nadya's stomach growling in response. "Ay, was 'ardly any business ta be 'ad today." She sat at the table, smiling in thanks as her mother handed her a warm cup of mulled wine.

"Petsha?" she asked aloud, giving her mother a questioning look. Her mother merely looked over her should, shrugging lightly in response. Her little brother was always running around, more than likely he had encountered trouble, as oft was his habit.

As if he had been summoned, Petsha ran through the door, cradling a small bundle in his arms. His blonde hair fell thick and wavy to his shoulders. His pale blue eyes the same startling bright color as her mother's. His frame was thin and wiry, long limbs flying everywhere as he screeched to a halt - almost knocking Nadya out of her chair in the process.

She laughed, reaching over to tousle his hair affectionately.
"There's tha' lil' scamp!"
"Your late for dinner, Petsha." her mother scolded him, continuing in the same breath "And what do you have there?" her eyes narrowed.

He shrugged, a guilty looking passing over his face. Nadya snatched the package from his scrawny hands, unwrapping it with deft quickness to reveal a loaf of bread.
"Where di' ya' manage ta' fin' this?" Her gray eyes bore down into him with disapproval. He merely shrugged once more, suddenly finding something very interesting upon the floor.

"Petsha.. did you steal this?" Her mother gripped his shoulder, gesturing to the bread with her free hand. He raised his head, a look of defiance passing over his face. "Sah.. tha' were gonna throw i' ou' anyway! Nah one saw!"

Mirela frowned, opening her mouth to begin what Nadya was sure would have been a hardy scolding but in that moment her grandfather chose to emerge from the back room. "Petsha.. go tend the horses before dinner." His voice was firm, his tone making no room for argument. With a small nod, Petsha walked back outside.

In spite of his large frame, her grandfather, Djenikov Petulengro, stood frail using the support of a cane to walk. Gray wiry hair stood askew accompanied by mahogany eyes, almost milky from blindness. His flesh hung loose, an aftermath of the permeating sickness. His cough was deep, rattling his entire body as he hacked into a thin white handkerchief. Once finished, he threw the rag into the fire, taking a seat at the small table. Reaching over, he patted Nadya's hand - evoking a wane smile.

They sat in comfortable silence, each keeping their thoughts to themselves. Petsha returned to the table, taking his place, and then her mother - placing large bowls full of stew at each setting. Nadya took a bite, savoring the chunks of meat and garlic seasoning. Her mind drifted, going back to sketches and the plans she had for her designs. Her grandfathers voice broke her revery.

"Demetro came by today." The statement hung in the air, causing Nadya's entire body to stiffen in response. She glanced to her mother who was studiously eying her stew. As expected, she looked to her grandfather, acknowledging his statement.

"He is a good man, Nadya.. strong, handsome, and his familiya boasts the largest herd of horses in the vitsa."She knew what it was he was not saying - marriage, the one thing she feared most. And to her, the most restricting tradition practiced by her people.

"He will ask, and when he does, you would be wise to consent. He will make a good husband for you." Her grandfathers tone had strayed from gentle to firm, an indication of his irritation at her silence.

"Puro dad.." she spoke softly, her eyes beseeching him. She nibbled at her bottom lip, trying to cease the trembling his words evoked within her.

"No!" he slammed his fist upon the table, violent coughs causing him to shake.

"You spend far to much time, in that shop, among those Gadjikane! I will have it no more! They fill your head with foreign ideas, keep you from you people and your family!" He raised his voice.

"Your place is here, among the camp, with the other women. Demetro will ask, and when he does, you will say yes. To refuse would bring disgrace upon your familiya. Understood?"

She nodded vaguely, her mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. She looked to her mother, trying to find some argument in he gaze but she saw that was a losing battle. Her mother never argued with him, they were here, under his roof, by his good grace alone. Nadya pushed her bowl away in disgust, her appetite suddenly diminished. She rushed out of the house, knocking her chair over in the process. She heard her mother say something unintelligible but her ears didn't register the words.

She kicked off her shoes, bare feet alighting across the bare, moist grass. The sky was gray,overcast, the burden of the rains caught amongst the clouds.

It seemed not even nature would shed tears for her plight.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya paused, hearing the faint sound of a door being closed.

"Jus' a momen'.. I'll be righ' tha!" she yelled from the back of the shop, hoping her voice had carried. Sighing, she rose from the floor, brushing her dusty hands off upon her skirt. She had been sorting through the different bolts of cloth in an attempt to organize the small storage area into something resembling order.

With a quick step, she rounded the corner, bumping into someone - strong hands circled her upper arms in a steadying motion. Looking up, she swallowed. His size dwarfed hers, standing around six feet with broad shoulders and chest that spoke of his physical strength. Black hair fell in a wavy mop across his forehead and green eyes bore down at her, his pronounced jawline tightening slightly.

"Nadya... ya' should be more careful." he gave, what she imagined, he viewed as a dashing smile, white teeth gleaming in the poorly lit backroom.

"Demetro.. wha' brings ya 'ere?" she frowned, blatantly ignoring his comment as she shook of his hand. Crossing the room she tried to put some distance between him, seemingly looking over the merchandise.

"I 'ad 'oped to speak to ye abou' somethin' rather importan'." he spoke softly, that attempt at a dashing smile still plastered on his face.

"Aye, I know." she stated bluntly, her voice clipped and sharped. She looked down, fingers fidgeting with the pieces of material upon hone of the display tables.

"I brought ya' somethin'" she jumped, his voice emanating from behind her. Gently, he brushed her hair aside. She felt the cool touch of metal upon her neck as his fingers deftly slipped the trinket around, clasping it firmly. Glancing down, she eyed the bauble appreciatively. The chain was composed of thin gold, the centerpiece an opal shaped emerald set in a small ring of metal that resembled a frame.

She couldn't help but to smile - it really was beautiful. Feeling his fingertips linger upon her neck she stepped away quickly.

"Wai' 'ere a momen'" she gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile. Moving to the backroom she gathered the small bundle quickly, hesitating a moment. Once she gave him this gift there would be no turning back. She could refuse, throw the gift in the flames, rip the necklace free, and never turn back. But to do so would bring disgrace upon her family, and that she could not bear.

In what could easily be mistaken as shyness, she dropped her gaze, handing the small package to him. She heard him open it quickly, the sound of the wrapping being discarded from the object making her shift upon he feet nervously. Then silence - she waited a for more seconds before looking up.

Her gift to him was a leather vest, made soft and supple from days of handling and dyed a deep, rich blue color. He nodded in approval, shrugging his shoulders as he fleshed out the feel. They were formally engaged now, the exchanging of gifts more binding and sacred a ceremony than the marriage ritual itself.

"Demetro.." she caught his gaze, eyes boring into his with curiosity. "Why meh?" a faint frown lingered upon his lips, then it was gone replaced with an arrogant smile. "Maybeh I fin' yer beautiful, Nadya".

She laughed at that, the sound bubbling forth from her throat before she had a chance to stop it. Among her people marriages were usually not arranged upon looks, but more upon the riches, prestige, and standing of the family within the community. She knew why he asked, her grandfather held great weight and respect among the small band. He also boasted the finest horseflesh, not to mention holding the previous position of Ataman.

She gave him a look of disbelief. "If ye were marryin' fer looks ye would do betta' ta choose Lubya. Ye' know well as I she's tha pretties'". He merely shrugged in response, refusing to giving an honest answer.

She dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling him cross the room. She felt a firm grip upon her chin and for a moment she held fast in a test of wills before consenting, allowing Demetro to lift her chin. His head tilted in, she saw the moment coming before it ever happened. His lips brushed hers, warm and soft, with only the lightest of pressure. She neither yielded or refused, merely returned the affectionate gesture in the manner that was expected of her.

Pulling back, he gazed down at her, his eyes a mixture of relief and disappointment. He had expected defiance of her or perhaps his kiss to ignite some burning passion he presumed lingered within. He brushed a stray hand of hair behind her ears before turning, exiting the shop with nary another word.

She followed, securing the door behind him. She sank to the floor, knees curling to her chest in a futile gesture of security. Her tears felt hot against her cheek, falling freely for the independence she knew was just lost and never to be had once more. She could not refuse, would not, for her family's sake - that was not even a possibility, they would outcast her in the same manner they had her father. She would accept the situation as best she could, and who knew, perhaps it would not be so bad with Demetro.

With a resigned sigh, she wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling foolish for such an open, childish display. Rising, she donned her shawl, gathering her belongings to return home. Her grandfather would wish to be informed as soon as possible, she knew.

And thus, she sealed her fate.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya perched on the shoreline, one leg tucked beneath her, the other hanging perilously over the edge. She had excused herself in the guise of a walk and somehow her thoughts had led her here. The small beach was not overly far from camp, the baying of the dogs interrupting the muffled sounds of night.

A touch of hands upon her back brought her from reverie - a high pitched squeal of surprise emitting from her throat. Spinning, she turned to face her attacker, fists above her head in a protective gesture.

"Lyuba!" she yelled, eying her childhood friend. "Ye scared meh! I's a wonder I didn' fall off tha' cliff!"

Lyuba merely laughed in response, emerald eyes sparkling with mischief as she tossed a strand of pale blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I'd ha' caugh' ye before ye did." she winked, flashing a pearly white smile. Nadya merely scoffed, rolling her eyes as she stood. Brushing her hands against her skirt she asked "Wha' ye brin's ye ou' 'ere this time ah nigh'?"

"Actualleh.. was lookin' fer ye.. 'ard te find ye these days. If I didna know ye betta I'd say ye were 'iding" Lyuba raised a brow, giving her a knowing look.

Nadya pointedly looked away, avoiding her gaze. "Jus' been busy is all."

Lyuba nodded, acquiescing to the non-verbal cues. She knew better than to press the issue. "I say we go ou' an' 'ave a little fun... afore ye tie yerself down an' all."

"I didna' think tha's such a wise idea."

"Ye scared?"

Nadya glared, forcing out a sardonic laugh. "Alrigh'.. lead tha way.." Lyuba knew she would not back down from the challenge. They walked in companionable silence - following the coast. This time of night there was nary a soul about, making it that much easier for them to go about unnoticed.

The pale glow of light, upbeat music, and sound of bawdy laughter greeted their ears. They had visited this establishment maybe a few times before yet each time gave
Nadya a thrilling sense of recklessness. Holding her chin high, they slipped between the open doors. The key, she discovered, was to merely act like you belonged. They quickly made their way to a small table in the back corner of the room. Only then did she allow her eyes free roam of the room.

Thankfully, she saw no familiar faces among the crowd - that would only mean guaranteed trouble. There was a small band of musicians in the corner, enthusiastically playing along to the requests of patrons. Some, she noticed, were even dancing - a small square in the middle of room designated for such.

Lyuba nudged her, giving her a wide smile. "This is exactly wha' we needed!" Nadya could only smile in response to her friend's exuberance. "I'll ge' us somethin' ta drink" Lyuba rose, walking toward the bar.

Her eyes roved around the room, foot tapping in time with the beat. She paused, the gaze of a stranger making her pause. He stared boldly, a smile of flirtation curving the corners of his lips. She blushed, looking down at her hands.

The thunk of mugs being slammed upon the table brought her head up. Lyuba slid her a tankard - the wine was mulled, warm and sweet yet slightly cloying upon the tongue. It wasn't long until she felt the warm flush come to her cheeks.

And then he was there, the stranger whose eyes she now saw were staring very boldly upon her. His brown hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, his stature tall and lean. "Care for a dance?" he smiled once more. Normally, she would have refused but the wine was making her feel bold.

"Aye!" she giggled, exchanging a glance with Lyuba. The strangers hand was warm in hers as he led her into the dancing area. And then they were off - bouncing around in a quick reel. She laughed joyously, pleased by the feeling of his hand gripping hers and gentle bump of their bodies amongst the crowd.

The music slowed then ceased, immediately melding into a softened melody. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her close against him. He gave her a brazen smile, leaning down to whisper in her ear "Wha's yer name, lass?"

She blushed, looking down at their feet moving together in harmony upon the hardwood floor. "Nadya, an' yers?"

"Daniel. I's nice ta mee' ye Nadya. Tha's a vereh pretteh name.. sui's a pretteh girl like yerself"

Laughing, she gave him a doubtful smirk. "I'm sure ye say tha' ta all the girls."

"Aye, bu' onleh tha' pretteh one's" He opened his mouth to speak again, but halted, his gaze staring at something over her shoulder. Turning, she gasped. Demetro! Not only was he here but he was making his way over, and quickly. The stranger seemed to sense the trouble, releasing her hand and stepping away to meld into the crowd. She felt a firm grip upon her arm and then she was being dragged unwillingly through the crowd. She didn't want to cause a scene so her struggle was minimum.

The cool breeze upon her skin as they stepped outside helped clear her hazy mind and in anger she jerked her arm free from Demetro's grip. "''ow dare ye!"

He whirled around, his dark green eyes fairly seething. "Wha' exactleh do ye' think yer doin' 'ere Nadya?" Before she could even respond he continued. "Do ye nah know 'ow dangerous i' is ou' 'ere all by yerself!"

"I wasn' by mehself, if ye woulda took a chance ta notice afore ye dragged meh ou' o' tha'. I didna' know who ye think ye are bu' tha' is nah yer righ'!" she raised her chin definatly, mouth set in a hard line.

He grabbed her, forcing her back against the wall of the tavern. Standing this close she could see the glazed eyes and smell the ale upon his breath. He fairly growled out his next words, eyes narrowing down at her. "We will beh married soon Nadya and tha' soon will be meh righ' as yer 'usband! Nah only are ye ou' 'ere bu' yer dancin' with tha' scum! Tha' Gadjo! I can smell 'em on yer.. all over ye!" he grabbed her upper arms, slamming her back against the wall with each ending sentence.

"Demetro.. yer 'urtin' meh..'' she whimpered gently but her words fell on deaf ears as he continued to grind her back into the wall. His hand jerked up, stilling her body as he grabbed her chin. She cried out, feeling as if her jaw was going to break with the amount of pressure. Then his lips were pressing upon hers, grinding, completely lacking the gentleness that he had formerly possessed.

"Demetro.." Lyuba's voice was hard, her hand touching him gently on the shoulder. "Demetro, stop!"

Releasing her, he walked back towards the doors. "Ge' 'er 'ome now.." he spat the statement out and then he was gone.

Lyuba sighed softly as she wiped the tears from Nadya's face. Silently, she took her hand. And as quickly as that their night of celebration was over - shattered by the man she would soon call husband.

************************************************************

Once more Adara played the role of spectator, watching the two young women make their way back to camp. Tenebrous tendrils of shadow stretched and overlapped, clothing her in complete darkness. Her fingers curled into the damp earth, ripping up clumps of grass as she struggled to regain control. Her inner beast raged like a tiger in a cage, snarling as it fought to be free. She forced a ragged breathe, feeling it rattle down her throat, past her ribs, and settle down into her very core.

Soon, she had to reassure it, to offer some form of bribery or she would be here in this battle of wills all night. Then, all was still. Her inner nature was territorial at heart - reacting violently to the sight of her charge being battered. It tore at her to watch in silence and she wanted nothing more then to rush in. She licked her lips, imagining the feel of him struggling beneath her as her fangs dug into his throat - the spray of blood bathing her in a warmth that would chase away the chill of her skin.

But, she had waited and watched. What she had come forth to do had been achieved. The girl, unknowingly, had drank of her blood. It had not been much, barely a drop but that would be enough. Despite her nerves, in one smooth, controlled motion it was completed.

It had been all too easy - the dull roar of the room, the sounds, smells, all of it working against her. She had been lost, a strange face, among the crowd. The girl's eyes had passed right over her face.

In that one act she had assured her role as Nadya's protector, the survival of her clan, and lastly her future position of maker.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Adara strode in, footfalls falling silently upon the wooden floor of the shop. Her eyes took in the room, unconsciously seeking danger, in one swift motion. Her eyes stopped to rest upon the young girl that was her charge - Nadya Petulengro.

Her nostrils flared slightly, hands moving to her sides in a flexing motion, sensing the undercurrent in the room - defeat. The girls eyes, while not actively staring at anything, were fixed on something far away. Something she could only see within her own mind.

************************************************************

Nadya was lost in thoughts, her mind felt as if a cloud had descended over it, shrouding all clarity within. The clearing of a throat and gentle shuffle of a foot brought her back - causing her to jump. "Goodness! Migh' wan' ta warn someone when afore ye jus' go bargin' in!" she snapped.

Adara paused, eyebrow raised quizzically. "My apologies, I shall aim for a grander entrance next we meet."

Nadya frowned, but merely nodded. "Sorreh... jus' a lot on meh mind. Care fer a drink? I's awful col' ou' tha'.. tha' wind is brutal." She reached under the counter, not waiting for a reply, as she poured two mugs of cider. It was room temperature but warm enough to remove the chill from one's bones. With an appreciative smile, Adara accepted the mug, taking a small sip. "Thank you for your hospitality, it is much appreciated." And then in one more breathe. "I'm assuming the hat is finished?" her features were schooled, betraying no emotion.

Nadya took one long draft from her mug before slamming it down upon the counter, contents sloshing out. She felt highly irritable this day, the encounter with Demetro still weighing on her mind. Not to mention her back, arms, and wrists were a motley of myriad colored bruises. Finding the package she gathered it gingerly, returning to the front of the shop. Adara had maintained her position, standing as straight and poised as ever. Figures, she sighed to herself, eyes rolling. Adara took the package carefully, unwrapping it with the utmost care before feeling the fine fabric of the hat between gloved fingertips.

"Your work is unrivaled Nadya, you have quite the knack for this. I would go so far as to even state this as an expression of your artistic capabilities." Despite that fact she was being flattered, something that usually irritated her, she felt strangely pleased, chin lifting in an unconscious reaction to the praise. She felt a smile coming to her face.

"Thank ye." The smile stayed on her face, but it was forced. She grabbed the mug, taking another long swig. Her nerves felt frazzled on edge, like she was standing upon a precipice waiting to take a plunge. Technically, she was but that day was not today. Soon.. soon.. soon.. constantly thrumming through her mind. She felt a cool hand covering hers, and instantly it seemed as if her mind was blank. It was a very calming affect. She glanced up, a look of concern etched on Adara's face. "Is there something troubling you? You seem very tense."

"I jus' 'ad a lo' on meh plate is all.." she sighed, shoulders sagging as she slumped onto the stool behind the counter. Adara took a seat opposite "I assure you, I am an outstanding listener. Tell me." She nodded in acquiescence, taking a deep breathe. "Alrig'" She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to spill her troubles in this woman's lap. She was practically a stranger, in fact, they ad only spoken once. But Nadya preferred to go with the general flow of her emotional clock, trusting her instincts versus rational thought.

"Meh famileh.. meh grandfather, 'as arranged a marriage fer meh. I though' everythin' was goin' ta beh fine. I would marry as all women are expected ta do among meh people, we would 'ave children, and 'opefully one day be able to find 'appiness." She paused, taking a moment to wet her lips. She eyed Adara who's interest was rapt, every inch of her petite frame positioned in an open gesture claiming she was listening. Unconsciously, she rubbed her wrist.

Adara noted the movement, remaining silent.

"'e is 'andsome.. don' ge' meh wrong. An' a good 'ard worker bu' I jus' don' think we are goin' ta sui'.. especialleh afta.." She looked down, mixed feelings of compulsion and secrecy torn within her. It was if the words were pouring out of her mouth without her free will. She shook the feeling off, shrugging as if the situation was nothing. "Jus' 'ad a little figh' is all.. i' 'appens." She felt herself becoming defensive but she didn't care. She felt as if she was backed into a corner. Yet, she wanted to talk and have this woman listen. This woman who all of a sudden seemed upon the same level as a friend.

Adara rose from the stool, gathering the package in her hands. "Here, I believe this is the appropriate amount for such. I thank you for your work and time. I look forward to arranging more orders in the near future." She bowed slightly, placing a small leather container upon the counter top - and as quickly as that she was gone.

Nadya drained the cider from the cup, sinking further in her seat - lost once more in the muddy depths that were her thoughts.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

She rested her head on the counter, a gently pounding forming at the corner recess of her mind. She had been trying to distract herself form her thoughts - delving into some sketches that required editing, but, alas that had failed. In bitter failure she had pushed the drawings aside, grinding her head into the hard wood table.

She raised her head, hearing the small whoosh of wind and faint click that accompanied opening the shop door. She broke into a smile, rising from her chair. "Ladeh Adara... wha' brings ye 'ere so earleh in tha mornin'?" Usually her visits had always been later at night, close to time when she locked up.

"I was merely passing through and thought I would pick up my most recent order. That is, of course if it is finished?" Her eyes were shielded beneath the usual black kasa, but her lips curved at the corners in a small smile.

"Aye, ye know well enough tha' i's finished." Nadya eyed evenly, frowning. "Do ye doub' meh abilities all o' a sudden?" She tried her best to maintain the frown but she merely laughed. Adara smiled in response. "You knew the answer to that before ever you asked it."

Nadya rolled her eyes, moving to the backroom to gather the order. She lovingly moved her fingertips over the dress, the fine silk had been specially ordered and specially fitted to Adara's trim form. It was her greatest masterpiece yet. Gingerly, she folded and wrapped, securing the dress inside. She felt pained to depart with it but she knew it was going to a better home. She noticed every detail about Adara's clothing - it was well maintained.

"Ye keep orderin' all these clothes yer either gonna run ou' o' room or moneh one.." Nadya grinned at Adara.

"I realize this is a sore subject but have things improved.. at home.. that is.." Adara's soft tone seemed to break Nadya's spirit, shoulders slumping as she turned her back to face away. She shrugged, uneasily fidgeting with the corner of her apron.

"I 'ave nah seen Demetro since tha' nigh'. 'e is a' meh 'ome righ' nah with meh grandfather.. negotiatin'" she smiled bitterly, her face scrunching in pain. "Once tha' is done an' tha bride price is settled then i' will go much easier. Tha' pliashka then tha' weddin' righ' afta."

Nadya shifted on her feet. "I shouldna' beh tellin' ye this.. yer nah.." she shook her head, sighing.

"Not Rom, I understand Nadya. I will not force the information from you, that is not my place. I merely am concerned for your well being is all. I know I feel much improved and less lonely when I can free the troubles from my chest." Adara removed her kasa, giving her a sympathizing look.

"I understand what it is to want the things you cannot have. To be obligated to deny your deepest desires, wants, and dreams to please others. But ask yourself this Nadya.. is it worth it in the end? When all is said and done and you look back upon your past - will you be pleased with what you find?"

Nadya eyed her a long moment, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "I canno'.. ye know I canno'... as much as I wan' ta.. I canno' ever disgrace meh familah name in tha' way."

Adara gathered the package, placing her kasa upon her head as she moved to the door. "Then that is something that you must learn to live with."

************************************************************

Nadya walked inside the door, her spirits considerably more desolate. After Adara had left she had busied herself cleaning, organizing, and generally just tackling any task she could find. Turning, her mood darkened instantly seeing those gathered about the room.

In the middle of the small room her brother and Demetro sat, heads huddled together, speaking in earnest whispers. A mischievous glint was sparkling at the corner of her brother Petsha's eyes. Demetro laughed, head tilting back in almost a roar of mirth. He stopped when he saw her, eyes roving over her body in a possessive manner, that same arrogant smile coming to his handsome face. She curled her fists at her side, resisting the urge to reach out and slap him.

The smile stayed in place as he rose, crossing the room to place a soft kiss upon her cheek. "Evenin' Nadya.. ye are lookin' as beautiful as eva'"

She merely scoffed, rolling her eyes. He leaned close, brushing her hair aside to whisper in her ear. "Nah still mad a' meh are ye? I'm sorreh... an' ta prove i' I brough' ye somethin'. He gripped her hand in his, dragging her along outside to the back pasture behind her home. She grudgingly followed. A fight would not be fitting, especially when he seemed to amicable at the moment.

"Demetro I am vereh tired.. please.. jus' cu' i' ou'.. " she halted, words caught in her throat.

"Isn' 'e magnificen'?" he smiled, fingers intertwining with hers. He opened the pasture gate, leading her in by the hand. "'I been savin' 'im fer ye. 'e doesn' 'ave a name ye'.. though' I would save tha' fer ye. O' tha' fines' stock.. a little spirited bu' 'e 'as a strong 'eart."

The stallion galloped forward, black name whipping in the wind. His color was mottled, intermixing of black and white - he galloped with an ease of grace, head tilted high in a prideful manner. She reached out her hand, marveling at the pale blue depths of his eyes. He stopped inches away, taking account of her. With hesitation he extended his neck forward, nose butting against her open, outstretched palm. Huffing, his warm breath sent goosebumps along her bare flesh.

She stepped forward, trying her best to appear courageous. It would not do to show him any fear, especially now upon their first meeting. Her hand shook gently as she placed it fully upon his nose. In silent acquiescence, he froze, allowing her to rub her fingertips along the velvet of his nose.

"'es tha bes' gif' ever Demetro" she smiled back at him, beaming with joy. He smiled in return, brushing a loose lock of ebony hair back from his face. "I'm glad ye lioke 'im.. 'es yours." She turned, exuberantly wrapping her arms about him.

Despite all his faults maybe Demetro was not to be her complete undoing after all. In the back of her mind a tiny voice whispered, causing her blood to chill...

"Liar.."

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya diligently ran the brush through the horse's mane, freeing away the knots that had accumulated overnight. Albyond, meaning loyalty, is the name she bestowed. He nickered softly, butting his head into her shoulder in silent affection. A warm smile broke upon her face. Already there was a bond forming between her and the proud, gentile giant.

"Chakano!" she heard her mother's voice yelling in the distance. With a gentle sigh she wrapped her arms around Albyond's neck, willing it all to just disappear. Yesterday the agreements had been arranged and finalized, both families eventually deciding on a bride price. She was not privy to that information, much to her chagrin.

She felts her mothers hand, applying the smallest pressure, upon the small of her back and then a kiss upon her cheek. "Chakano.. the pliashka is tonight.. and you are not even dressed yet.. " she chided gently, a disapproving tone coming to the forefront.

Idly, she scratched Albyond's neck before pushing him away with the barest nudge. Wordlessly she watched him graze, eyes intent on everything but her mother's face. She felt fingertip on her chin, turning her to look. "Day.." her face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. "I'm frightened.. please.. do nah make meh do this!". Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, then proceeded to flow steadily down her cheeks. "I cannah marreh Demetro, day, I donnah love 'em."

Her mother took a deep breath, letting out slowly. "Nadya, love isn't everything it is chalked up to be. I loved your father and look at the mess it got me in. The only blessings to come from our union was your brother.. and you."

"An' ye' ye still wai' fer 'im! Don' pretend ye don'. I know ye still think o' 'im when ye 'ave tha' far away look in yer eyes. And don't ye dare lie ta meh an' preten' othawise!" she fairly yelled, pulling free of the embrace. She waved her arms about in frustration, trying to find an outlet for all the frustration that had fabricated within.

"You are lucky to have someone like Demetro asking for your hand. Your father disgraced my position in this camp and only by the sheer grace of your grandfather's reputation has it been salvaged. He is strong, handsome, and will give you many sons. What more could you want of him? Love, that will come with time."

Nadya remained still, lips set in a hard, thin line. She had mentioned the little incident with Demetro, and besides Lyuba, no one would have knowledge of it.

"You made an agreement, chakano, one you must see through to the very end.. this you know.." her mother reached for her hand, wrapping her arm about her in a gesture of reassurement. "Now, dry those eyes and come wash up."

They made their way back to the house, each preparing for the evening to come.

************************************************************

They sat at a long banquet table strewn with half eaten plates and full glasses of wine. Always, at Rom ceremonies there was a hearty serving of alcohol. The makeshift tent, hastily erected for this very occasion, was brightly lit with an abundance of candles that were beginning to burn down to a low flame. Her back felt tight and stiff from sitting for an extended period of time, her feet sore from numerous dances, and her head light from too much wine. Demetro sat an arms length away but was eagerly chatting away with his companions.

Across the hall, she heard a low din that eventually increased to a small roar - infested with cries of congratulations and ribbery from the Rom seated about the tent. Her eyes espied Demetro's father, Besnik, walking steadily towards them. In his hands he carried a dark bottle of brandy, secured tightly in a flamboyant silk blue handkerchief. Upon closer inspection a necklace of gold coins was wrapped about it. She rose, preparing for the ceremony at hand. This was the most important rite to the pliashka and was the deepest symbol of their eminent union.

His teeth gleamed, lips formed in the same arrogant smile as his son. Unwrapping the necklace he proceeded to secure it about her neck, kissing her full on the lips in a chaste gesture of acceptance. She laughed despite her rising nerves. "Bori!!" he yelled, opening the bottle to take a long drink before passing it about the room. The bottle would be passed about, among family and friends, until it was completely empty. And then it would be refilled, sealed, and saved for their wedding day.

She felt arms enveloping her, heard Lyuba's laugh ringing through her ears, whispering slurred words of congratulations. Quickly, she was pulled into another dance. The room spun, time passing in a blur of laughter, wine, and familiar faces.

Tonight, rejoice, for it was to be her last as a maiden.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya dozed in the sun, the warmth it conjured lulling her consciousness into a peaceful dream-like state. She allowed the haze to wash over as her limbs relaxed, brain starting to become fuzzy as it succumbed to her weariness. The last few weeks following her marriage nuptials had been a tedious mass of lectures, chores, and obligations. This was well and truly the first time she had been alone with herself. While temporary and short-lived the moment was rather blissful. She was losing herself in this union, gradually, like waves against the shore, her soul was being carted off in pieces. There was no freedom, every action was dependent upon the whim and will of her husband.

She had rose early to her mother’s gentle chiding and ministrations – bathing, eating, and dressing herself according to custom. Her garb was a simple the color of a gray dove, accompanied by dark blue ribbons braided and intertwined with her chestnut hair and blue flats to match upon her feet. She remembered the frightful feeling as she had made her way to the front of the small company bearing witness, her nerves fairly bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She kept her eyes on the ground, afraid that if she looked up and met the eyes of her familyia that the floodgates would open and she would collapse in tears. But, alas, she plastered on an uneasy smile and brave front – all for the sake of tradition.

Mustering what little courage there was, she had lifted her gaze to lock with that of Demetro. He was clad modestly in brown boots, black wool pants, and the leather vest she had gifted him during their engagement. His hair was one unruly black mass, falling across his brow haphazardly. The arrogant smile was in place, teeth gleaming in the sunlight. They joined hands, he merely raised a brow but did not dare comment upon the clammy state of hers. There was no thrill at his touch, merely a satisfying warmth to the chill. The vows were brief, echoing the bandolier in mutual promises of faith and promises to be true. The bandolier, Demetro’s father, Besnik, removed a small dagger from his waist, pricking a finger of each. The blood welled to the surface of her index finger, bright and out place amongst the pristine nature of the ceremony. Yet, it was the most important step. With a slight feeling of reverence she allowed a few drops to fall upon the piece of bread presented. Her eyes glanced up for a moment ,watching Demetro mimic her movements. They exchanged their food fare, the metallic taste only slight in comparison with the sweet, doughy bread.

Then the re-filled brandy bottle from the pliashka was brought forth, secured in the blue silk from before. Demetro drank first then passed the bottle - the burn of liquid courage poured down her throat, creating a warming sensation that unfurled deep in her belly. Besnik proceeded to grab the bottle, moving about the group of Rom that had gathered around.

"Chakano" her mother stepped forth, tears brimming the corner of her eyes as she smiled. Petsha stood by her side with a forlorn look in his eyes as he produced a smile. Nadya ruffled his hair, leaning down to embrace him. He was growing older and she doubted she would see much of him from this moment hence. Her eyes moved back to her grandfather's stern face - that alone being enough to hold back the onslaught of tears that threatened. Her mother's fingers deftly unbraided her hair, removing the ribbons.

Dike, Demetro's mother, secured the diklo about her head and truly cemented her status as a married woman within the community. From this hour forth Nadya could never be seen with her hair uncovered. Both her mother's gripped her firmly in their arms placing kisses on her cheeks and making a great show of shedding tears, as was fitting. Then the celebration truly began!

Nadya doubted she had or would ever eat so much in her life. There was a large boar roasted over an open fire along with roasted chicken, geese, and various other wild game. Amongst that to warm her palate was fried potatoes, boiled cabbage stuffed with rice, chopped meat, and an abundance of garlic. Not to mention the liquor, something that was never lacking in ceremonies of the Rom.

She had drank until her head felt like a cloud and danced until her feet felt as lead. The festival carried over into the night and in the pre-dawn hours of the next morning Demetro grabbed her hand and proceeded to lead her away. His house was not far from the tent that had been erected during the pliashka. This was the only night they would have to themselves. Their union was quick but not entirely unpleasant. He had smelled of sweat and drink, calloused hands quick and deft in the art. She had lain in silence, trying her best to hold in her cries. After all was finished he collapsed atop her, slipping into the deep sleep of those under the influence. She had struggled for a moment before she pushed him off, rolling him over onto his back.

She studied him in the dark, trying to make out his masculine features. Timidly she ran her fingers along his abdomen, jerking her hands back in response to his gentle murmur. Gingerly, she laid her head upon his shoulder afraid to wake him. Not long after she too succumbed to slumber.

Since then their nights together were quick and brief, Demetro falling asleep not long after. Her days were spent with her Dika being taught the ways of a wife. They cleaned, washed, swept, cooked, and any other tasks her mother in law thought pertinent. Nadya was no stranger to work but missed the bustle of her own shop and of other company. During the day Demetro and his father were always absent, their work always outdoors. His sister's had already been married away to our households and there were no children. She was forced to while away the hours listen to Dike tweak every action that Nadya completed. Everything had to be just so for her son.

Nadya hoped soon she would be with child so that her and Demetro would at least have their own home. Maybe then he would not be so distant with her. She truly was trying and never refused him a want. He smiled, laughed, and teased her except when he had drank too much. Then his touch was rough, his words harsh, and he was always on edge. She had several bruises, easily, on nights he went to the tavern with his friends.

But she bore it all - for it was her's to bear and she would not shirk it.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Nadya staggered alone through the dark forest, footsteps sounding louder than they were due to the silence that permeated. Her mind was covered in a liquor induced blanket of haze, blurring her vision and disorienting her balance. Music pounded in the distance behind her, caused by Lyuba’s wedding festival that had been taking place since the early light of morning. She needed to escape the raucous noise, laughter, and general mirth. The only cocoon of silence to be found was her familiar place of solace – her mother’s shop. She had not been allowed to venture there since her and Demetro had been wed. He thought it inappropriate and believed her time would be better spent in the home.

“Ba! A po’ on tha' ‘usband o’ mine!” she laughed in response to her statement, covering her mouth with a gasp as it echoed throughout the barren streets. There was not a soul in sight and she was now becoming painfully aware of the tap-tap of her shoes upon the cobbles. An eerie feeling crept upon her spine, sobering her as she glanced around in trepidation. Impossible. Demetro had been so far in his cups that he probably wasn’t even sure where he was at – he wouldn’t dare notice she was gone. She shook off the feeling, traipsing forward with a conjured confidence. Yet her step hastened all the same.

Her hand had curled around the door to the shop, key in place when a small shuffle caused her to turn. Her eyes strained into the dark but all she saw were shadows. Trying to keep her eyes in two places at once she turned the key, opening the door, rushing inside, and slamming it in place behind her. With a sigh of audible relief she leaned against the door. A sudden slam into her back sent her sprawling face down upon the wooden floor. She just barely managed to catch herself on her hands, earning a few scrapes upon her knuckles and knees as she did. Her face also made contact but the graze she felt was small in comparison to the kick that landed in her gut, causing her to flop unceremoniously onto her back. With a groan she laid there double over, holding her stomach and willing the air to return.

“I though’ I told ye nah ta come back ‘ere!” Demetro’s voice roared, aiming another kick in the direction of her ribs. She managed to roll out of the way, using the wall as a support as she wobbled to her feet. She shrunk in fear against the wall, inching along towards the back where the store room was. If she could barricade herself inside there would be enough time for her to slip out a window while he was busy with the door. He wouldn’t dare hit her in the presence of so many of their family members. If she was able to make it to camp before he did, that is. He staggered closer to her, the rage evident in his green eyes, glazed over heavily with drink. She could smell the liquor upon his breathe, strong and potent enough to almost knock her over.

“I told ye.. all ye ‘ad ta do was listen… jus’ listen..” his fingers formed a fist in her hair, slamming her head against the wall. The room flashed, spots appearing before her eyes as he repeated the motion. She tried to step away despite the tender cries from her hair follicles but his grip was too tight. She felt herself falling forward as she shoved her into the center of the room. This time her reflexes, inhibited by drink, were far too slow and she felt the warm gush in her mouth as her jaw made connection. The metallic taste was bitter in her mouth, her tongue sliding over the tender spot on her lip where her teeth had broken through the skin. She rose slowly, feeling a newfound strength in her limbs and determination in her heart. He had something else coming to him if he thought she was going to idly take another thrashing.

“I’m sorreh Demetro.. le’s jus’ go back ta the camp before anyone star’s missin’ us” she spoke softly, trying to coerce and calm at the same time.

“Don’t ye order meh around!” the back of his hand connecting with the side of her face. She was sure to have a bruise coloring the area on the morrow. “I’s time ye learned ye place. Noone else will teach I’ ta ya.. always bein’ spoiled by tha’ good fer nothin’ grandpa and wench of a motha’!” He leered at her, teeth flashing sharp and bright in the dark. He crouched down, almost as if anticipating resistance from her. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

She darted towards the storeroom door, it was yards away beckoning to her as a means of escape. She gave a cry of elation as she cleared the doorway but it turned into a scream as his arms enclosed about her waist. Her whole body lurched in response, causing her to stumble and they both fell to the floor in a heap of arms and limbs. She swung an open hand, trying to connect with whatever she could find. A resounding slap was the response as her open palm connected with his cheek. She bucked, limbs flailing, as he straddled her waist. It was only then she saw the rage in his eyes. She knew deep down she had took it too far by hitting him. It was the ultimate sign of defiance. His clammy fingers curled around her throat, bruising her throat as they squeezed. She grabbed at his wrists, nails scratching deep furrows down his arms. She writhed beneath him trying vainly to get some sort of hold or leverage that would give her even the slightest hint of oxygen. She felt as if she was a sponge and her very life was being squeezed from her.

And the whole while Demetro growled and cussed, spittle flying from his lips and teeth baring in a snarl. His words were now in-comprehensive to her ears, sounds fading out. Her vision seemed to collapse, the edges turning dark and blurry. She cried out in a strangled moan, tears rolling down her cheeks. In one last attempt for her life she tried to bring her knees up. She didn’t even register if they connected as she faded into the darkness.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

The first thing she registered when she opened her eyes was pain. It coursed through her whole being – knees, face, back, arms, and especially her throat. It felt as if a hammer had been taken to it and that it was now merely a collapsed pile of bones scratching down to the pit of her stomach as she tried to swallow. Her muscles groaned in protest as she slowly sat up. She ran her hands over her body in an attempt to check if anything had been broken. Though bruised it felt as if nothing had been seriously damaged. Her eye, she could feel, was swollen shut and her mouth felt twice its size. Her gaze darted around trying to make sense of the surroundings. And then everything came rushing back – Lyuba’s wedding feast, her silent escape, and her confrontation with Demetro.

She stilled, squinting into the darkness. If he was still here then he could continue his assault. She doubted his rage had abated, though it looked as if a few hours had passed since the incident. Gradually she made her way over to one of the exhibit tables. Clothes rained down on her as she grappled with the edge but after some time she managed to pull herself to her feet. Fumbling about the room she grabbed a lantern – taking what seemed like painful minutes to light it. Maybe he had passed out in the storeroom in the back.

Light in hand she tiptoed across the room., holding the lantern at eye level. Her feet caught on the edge of something, causing her to pause mid step. Her eyes connected with the prone form of Demetro – face first upon the floor. She dropped to her knees cautiously, using her free hand to shake him gently. It wouldn’t do to just leave him here. “Demetro..” she whispered softly, a feeling of uneasiness unfurling in her belly. She shook him harder, this time setting the lantern aside so she could use both hands. “Demetro.. come o’.. wake up.” Her tone became more urgent as she shook him fervently. It was only then that she realized there was a dark pool beneath his head. She rolled him over, hair matted together in a dark mop upon his head. The smell of liquor and blood intermingled wafted into her nostrils. She struggled not to gag as she took shallow breaths. His skin was cool to the touch and his body was stiff with rigor.

“Demetro.. please.. wake up..” she brushed his dark curls from his eyes, crying in earnest. Pulling his head into her lap she keened, hunched over his deathly pale form. This was her fault. If she had not left the feast he would not have followed her. He must have stumbled into the corner of the table when she kicked her knees forward. That was the only reason she was alive now, more than likely, but now his death was upon her shoulder. She was a murderer, whether accidental or not.

“Wha’ ‘ave I done..” she looked around the room, trying to take solace from somewhere but was only met with silence. Hands shaking she gently lowered Demetro’s head back the floor, wiping stray strands of hair from her eyes. She gasped in horror as she felt blood being smeared across her cheeks. Then she lost all control, balling her knees to her chest. Her sobs reverberated throughout her body, shaking her small form. Her mind couldn’t grasp the incredulous situation she was no placed in. Nor could it fathom the next steps that should be taken.

She tensed, poised to bolt as she heard the smallest scuffle of a step. Putting the lantern out, she rose, making her way to the door as quietly as she could. If she was caught here the repercussions would be swift and final. Her fingers curled around the door, prying it open as she peered her head out into the vacant streets. Trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible she closed the door behind her. Mentally, she was trying to calculate the best route of escape. Her eyes on the ground, she quickened her step walking north towards the woods.

As soon as made it to the wood line she ran, feet taking her as far and fast as possible.

Lady Draven · Visitor Joined: 11 Nov 2011 Posts: 13

Her lungs burned from the chill night air, breath rattling the very sides of her rib cage as she struggled onward. Her feet felt tender, her shoes offering little support against the rocks, branches, and other woodland assortments that had come across her path. She was sure to have bruises upon her soles if she continued much farther. Her bare arms were scattered with stray scratches from twigs and she had almost lost her only good eye by running into a tree branch. She stumbled, falling to her knees in exhaustion. She crouched there, slumped over, trying to catch her breath.

She had been running straight north for about an hour, varying her pace and speed. She wanted to cover as much distance as possible before the sun had a chance to rise. But she knew if she continued she would likely wind up dead from hunger, thirst, or just plain exhaustion. She needed time to rest, recover, and for her wounds to heal. Though no stranger to hardship she realized, with a sinking feeling, that all she had were the clothes upon her back.

She began to search the area, discovering a small copse of trees fairly shielded by large jutting rocks. Placing her shawl upon the ground she curled against one of the towering stone giants, grateful for the shield it provided from the wind. Her stomach growled loudly and her throat felt dry as a husk but right now all she wanted was to sleep. She sat awake for a few moments, eyes alert to her surroundings. Feeling a little jumpy she leaned over, grabbing a branch upon the ground. It wasn’t much compared to steel but hopefully it would be enough to scare away any animals that threatened too close.

Grudgingly, she closed her eyes – unable to resist the calling of sleep.