(no subject)
Denna hates the outdoors. She hates tramping through the woods, always a quarter league behind the Seeker. She moves closer at night, trying to keep a better eye on him, but still remain unseen.
She doesn't like sleeping in the wet, not being able to curl up near a fire. It's getting old. Very, very old.
She doesn't step in to bother Richard when he's fighting. She knows he's going to be peeved that she's following and not assisting, but she can't. Not yet. Not until it's time for her to help him take down his brother.
She curls into a ball, her pack as a pillow, hoping that it doesn't rain again. She also hopes that they'll be caught up soon. She wants to be back in the Temple at the People's Palace, in her rightful place as the Chosen. Lord Rahl's right hand. Soon.
Just not soon enough.
He doesn't even know, yet, that she's following him. No one does; she's been careful to not be seen. When she goes into town, she is not dressed as Mord'Sith. She is just a woman, passing through, invisible and liking it that way. It's sort of nice to not have people cringe at the mere sight of you for a change.
She's awake at dawn; earlier than the people she's following, trying to pick the leaves and sticks out of her hair. This is not going to plan. She needs this to be done differently and soon.
She wanders off in the dusky morning light to the nearby town, opening the door for the tavern, and walking into a bar instead.
She doesn't like sleeping in the wet, not being able to curl up near a fire. It's getting old. Very, very old.
She doesn't step in to bother Richard when he's fighting. She knows he's going to be peeved that she's following and not assisting, but she can't. Not yet. Not until it's time for her to help him take down his brother.
She curls into a ball, her pack as a pillow, hoping that it doesn't rain again. She also hopes that they'll be caught up soon. She wants to be back in the Temple at the People's Palace, in her rightful place as the Chosen. Lord Rahl's right hand. Soon.
Just not soon enough.
He doesn't even know, yet, that she's following him. No one does; she's been careful to not be seen. When she goes into town, she is not dressed as Mord'Sith. She is just a woman, passing through, invisible and liking it that way. It's sort of nice to not have people cringe at the mere sight of you for a change.
She's awake at dawn; earlier than the people she's following, trying to pick the leaves and sticks out of her hair. This is not going to plan. She needs this to be done differently and soon.
She wanders off in the dusky morning light to the nearby town, opening the door for the tavern, and walking into a bar instead.