So, it [i]was[/i] Aust. Annara wasn't sure if she was glad it wasn't somebody like Lothren or if she would have preferred somebody like their leader who would yell at her to pull herself together. She could hear the concern in his voice and, somehow, that made her feel even worse. She wasn't the victim here - a drop of the child's blood still clung to the edge of her knife, sitting next to her.

[color=orangered]"It's nothing"[/color], Annara insisted, grabbed her knife and shakily got up, steadying herself on the wall with one hand as she wiped her mouth with the back of the other.
Maybe the elf had seen what happened, or maybe he didn't. Either way, she didn't intend to talk about it, at least not to him. Something told her that she would be met with understanding, with compassion, with excuses for her behavior, and she didn't want any of it. Nobody had forced her hand. She couldn't stand the thought of somebody defending her when she felt so guilty.

Instead, she let go of the wall, turned around to Aust and forced a wry smile on her face that made the muscles in her cheeks ache - still, it looked real enough. If she had learned one thing among the Ytharien, it was how to lie convincingly.
[color=orangered]"It must have been something I ate. Either Rannon's cooking is really bad or he's actively trying to poison us."[/color]

The dark-haired woman closed the distance and, with her clean hand, softly patted his leg, looking up at him on his horse. 
[color=orangered]"Try not to think about this during the next play. It would make those kisses really awkward. And"[/color], she lowered her voice and gave it a sultry tone as if she wasn't covered in blood and had just lost her dinner, [color=orangered]"Alan didn't comment on them but those were really good, too."[/color]

Flirting and teasing were so much easier than telling the truth. He was a good man, as far as she was concerned: A little quiet but obliging, a good listener, and the only elf who consistently put up with her attempts at learning their language. Yet she didn't want to confide in him.
Without another word or even awaiting his reaction, she walked out of the small alley and, after a quick look around, found her own horse. The stallion looked a little unsure of himself with all the chaos around them but as she approached, cooing gently to him, he seemed to relax and let her get up.

Indeed, most of the townfolk seemed to have abandoned the village by now but she wasn't ready to ride back yet. After all, she had promised Alan that nobody would die today, and she would make sure of that before she rode back to camp.