Her blue eyes looked away, growing very depressed at the words that he said. Ambra couldn’t deal with the strong man calling them dogs and cowards. Perhaps [i]she[/i] was a dog. Perhaps [i]she[/i] was a coward. But the red haired woman did not think that everyone else were cowards and hounds. [i]She[/i] was the one that abandoned their cause first. Yet, she could not look at Zaino in the eye and tell him. How could she tell anyone? They would hate her, they would all hate her. A hot lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed roughly. Perhaps… perhaps she should just leave… they didn’t need a weakly such as her.

[b]”I don’t know anything anymore either.”[/b] she breathed out, closing her eyes and just… breathed for a moment. This was troubling. She supposed that she understood Zaino… [b]”Perhaps it’s just best to…”[/b]

Someone stepped into the room and she looked up to see the blue haired woman that called herself Trina. The odor of alcohol hung around her, and she hiccupped loudly. Ambra allowed a small smile to cross her lips as she watched Trina. Maybe she should drink a little one day. Get as happy as her. Feel cheerful and aloof even if it only lasted for a few hours. Another woman stepped in, and she perked. Talbot. That musician? He was alive? Ambra wanted to look over his wounds, make sure that he was well, but she didn’t want to abandon Zaino—he seemed lonely and angry and she wanted to make sure that he didn’t rush out of the inn.

[b]”Talbot’s alive. I wonder what happened, exactly.”[/b] Ambra wondered out loud, her eyebrows arching slightly. [b]”I would love to see his wounds but it seems that a lot of people are in his room.”[/b]