Water slammed into her sides, and dragged her into its depths. She released a panicked breath as the water took her deeper and deeper, pounding into her sides as she struggled to come up for air. She could no longer see MC or the other lantern bearer near her while the water stung her eyes. The lantern was ripped violently from her hand and she blindly grasped at the handle, having it brush the tips of her finger before it was washed away. Gravity took hold as she fell down a small waterfall. She gasped as her head peaked out of the rush of water, and briefly had a chance to open her eyes before roughly tumbling into another pool of water. As the rolling water slammed into her from above, she could no longer tell which way was up or down, but she had the fortune of having enough breath to last her the few seconds she needed to orient herself. Her bones ached, a salient reminder of her situation; she was very much a prisoner to circumstance. The current of the water pushed her to rest on rocks in shallow water, and there she sat dazed, her head peaking above the water. It was still dark out, and the glow from the fire dimmed until it disappeared completely. The night sky was dotted with complacent bright stars, unaware of the chaotic happenings on the ground, and the only similar feeling of comfort was only found in the soft glow of the lanterns that rested in the water nearby... The dark blue hue of the water rippled to intermingle with the fluorescent glow of green and purple as Robin waded back into the water towards the source of the light. The lanterns were tucked between large, smooth stones, and she carefully extracted them; the glass was broken, but the orbs inside seemed to have an increased vigor with exposure to the air. She tucked the green lantern under an arm and held up the one containing the purple egg, to trace her fingers on the delicate cracks and patterns on its surface. It was warm under her skin, and seemed to thrum in response to her touch—for a second she was reminded of the few alleyway cats that were kind to her, eager to be pet and pampered. She turned back to approach MC and the other boy and froze. In the distance was a building that looked strong and proud and painfully familiar. A hanging lamp illuminated the swinging, creaking plank of wood, that read in bold, new paints, “The Dowager”. Robin scrambled back to the far side of the water closest to the building. She held both lanterns up above the water and moved clumsily, occasionally stumbling in slow motion. She spat out curses as she waded to MC who rested near the edge of the water, and handed her the green lantern. Having both her hands full would surely be burden, she decided— [i]'And'[/i], she thought, giving a cursory glance to the boy nearby, [i]'I don’t trust him.'[/i] She struggled to pull herself onto the grassy banks and landed in a heap on the floor, struggling to regain energy. Robin laid in a fetal position for a few moments, clutching the lantern close to her chest, and closed her eyes. Seeing the inn had almost made her careless, but the pain prevalent in her bones made sure she went nowhere in a hurry. The egg glowed against her chest, and she huddled against it for a few seconds, relishing in the warmth it provided. She glanced up at the sky and stars reflected in her eyes—compared to the chaos of the past few minutes, the present was a gift of stillness. After a few seconds, she stood with her brow furrowed with determination. The creaking of the sign continued, taunting her, and she strode forward with lantern in hand. She reached the front of the building with a few, long paces, and hesitated briefly before pushing the wooden doors. They swung smoothly without any sounds of rusting hinges, and warmth rushed to blanket her as she entered. She lived here, but it felt so long since she had stepped inside The Dowager. It was a decently sized inn; more efforts were put in maintaining the spaces it had, rather than expanding to accommodate more people, which made it a cozy place. Instinctively, she wiped her boots on the welcome mat at her feet, not that it would do any good. She was still dripping like a wet rat. Robin approached the counter in front of her, and ran her hands on the polished wood. To her left was the hall that led to the rooms on the first floor and the stairwell up, and moving right would lead her to the main restaurant and pub. She walked into the restaurant and surveyed the silent room. Lights were hung around the restaurant, and a fire crackled gently. The smell of delicious spices wafted by, and she set the purple lantern down on a table before moving to the kitchen where the air was even warmer. It was stocked with foods and resources, much more than usual, but she was drawn by a wonderful smell. In a metal pot on the counter there was lumps of beef in vegetables soaked in a thick broth of curry, and loafs of warm bread sat nearby on clean cloths. She took a hearty amount of the curry and 2 loafs of bread, poured herself a mug of beer, and returned to a seat at the table where the lantern sat. The first mouthful was what she imagined heaven to be like. She ate slowly, using the loaf to scoop the rich broth and savored the sound of the crisp crust; despite her voracity, Robin couldn’t bring herself to shovel the food in her mouth. It was a comforting taste—her mother’s recipe, which her father replicated in perfect form whenever he visited. A similar version was served at the inn, but it was always missing some spice that her father managed to bring from wherever he was in the world... She ate quietly and fell into a meditative state. As she chewed on the tender beef, she thought of her aunt and cousin, who treasured the inn in their own special ways. She thought of her foolhardy father, who probably had no idea that she was missing. She thought of her mother, whom she hadn’t seen for years. She thought of the alleyway kids and the forest and her new companions—and as she contemplated over the bowl of hearty curry, Robin thought of home.