[center][h2]Anne Mayer[/h2][h3]Aventon — Hunter's Lodge[/h3][/center]
Most of the group seemed pretty eager to go and deal with whatever was lurking out in the forest, but Anne was glad to know that she'd still have some backup in the event that the worst came to pass. "I'll try and gather information down here," she told the others as they left, "We can fill each other in again when you all get back." She looked as serious as ever when she spoke, but the quiet confidence in her words was a show of her faith in their abilities. They'd survived the battle yesterday; they could survive whatever challenges this new day brought as well.

She wanted to believe that, even if harsh experience had made it impossible for her to think that way.

As the colorful backs of the otherworldly heroes passed through the threshold and out into the daylight, a new face loomed at the door. Kendrick wasn't an unwelcome sight, exactly, but his presence was a sharp reminder of what had happened the night before, and she already had an inkling of what he wanted to say to her. Not that this was something she could flee from even if she wanted—the Knight only drew in a quiet breath, and met the eyes of the weary guard.

"It's Anne. And yes, I was the one to tell him." Even after getting a long night's sleep, she looked completely worn out, in a way that went far beyond her sorry physical state. It was a feeling Kendrick surely knew by now: the pain, the guilt, the [i]exhaustion[/i] that afflicted every single villager who'd survived the Heralds' attack. A single traumatic event could scar a soul for life, and when you repeated that, over and over and over again for hour after hour as your comrades died screaming around you—whatever was left of you, when the sun finally set, would never be the same person that had existed before. They'd be someone else, someone haunted. Something [i]less[/i] than what they'd been before.

Anne had lived through the events of yesterday, just as Kendrick had. For her, the day before hadn't been much different. And the day before that... The weeks. The months. The years. Violence and loss and white-hot fear, stretched out in a bloody trail all the way back to her earliest years. Chipping away at her bit by bit, until all that remained was a brittle shell of a woman with eyes as empty as the dead.

And still she soldiered on, and tried to fumble her way to an answer. [i]Why did I...?[/i]

"I didn't mean to tell him at first." She sounded quiet, contemplative. "But you were right: he's a bright kid. Maybe a little too bright. I left the lodge for a while to deal with some of the others who'd showed up, and by the time I came back he'd noticed something was wrong." The look in his eyes, his worry transformed into cold dread. "I approached him, and he asked... And I felt like it would be a betrayal, to try and evade or lie to him. That I owed him the truth, even if that was all I could give him." Would things have been different, if she'd gone with the others to defend the village? Would her power have been enough to push the Heralds back a few moments sooner, and save even a few more people?

She cast her eyes downward. "...No, those are only excuses. The truth is I was just too weak to face him."

[@PKMNB0Y]