Rayadell woke early. The sun had yet to show its face, yet she heard the sounds of others moving just outside her locked door as a couple others made their way to the main floor.
	Though she was sure she had only gotten a few hours of sleep, anticipation granted her an extra boost of energy. She had not unpacked anything the night before. A wooden bowl the barmaid had brought to her filled with soup the previous evening sat empty beside the bowl on the small dresser, a tattered washcloth resting on the bowl’s brim.
	Rayadell got up and went to the bowl. Water filled about half of it. Though it had been warm when the waitress had poured it, now, hours later, the water was cold. Though she had the ability to fix that, Rayadell quickly splashed it on her face, its chill washing away what sleep still clung to her mind like sticky cobwebs. She dried her face quickly, then gave her wings a nice, long stretch. With a sad, irritated sigh, she reluctantly pulled them back into her body as tightly as she could, situated her backpack between them, then draped the cloak over her shoulders.
	She missed the days when she could roam her hometown without having to hide them, when she could move freely, not laden by the cloak. 
	She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. But she was past that. She had to be. Those days were long gone, and there was no going back. No undoing the horrors of her past. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to put them behind her, to forget them, some part of her refused to let it go.
	Opening her eyes, her usual, stoic look settling over her face, she grabbed her staff. She took a moment to run a hand down the intricately carved vines that resembled the real things, shockingly realistic animals prancing or hiding within the wooden plants. Her fingers paused on her favorite animal--at least of the ones she had spotted so far: a snow fox, sitting there, looking out at its surroundings with a sly glean in its blue eyes, its head cocked as if it had not a care in the world. Gripping the staff firmly in one hand, she grabbed the room key from the bed and headed to the main floor.
	She paused on the stairs as the all too familiar sound of a deep, sonorous snoring that would have impressed a dragon reached her ears. She rolled her eyes, then entered the tavern.
	Though the seats were empty save for a couple people bent over a simple breakfast, it was far less crowded than when she had last seen it. The barmaid stood in front of the counter, violently shaking a slumbering Valos, who sat in the same spot with his arms draped over the counter.
	“I’ve got this,” Rayadell told the barmaid with a smirk as she sat the key down on the counter.
	The girl’s curly black locks bounced slightly when she looked to the Elagon. “I’ve tried everything, miss,” she said exasperatedly. “There be no waking ’im. He’s disturbing the other customers!” She gestured to a man at a table who was glaring darkly at Valos. He looked about ready to lunge at the man.
	“Not everything.” She nodded for the girl to stand further back.
	Once the barmaid had obliged, Rayadell examined the stool he sat on for a short second, deciding on how much effort she would need to put forth.
	“Valos!” she yelled, drawing out his name angrily as she kicked the barstool out from under him.
	He gave a surprised shout as the stool went one way, throwing his body another. He caught himself on the counter, now as awake as he had been asleep. With surprising speed for someone of his bulk, he swung around with a fist held out.
	Despite his speed, Rayadell was still faster. She had spent enough time with him before to tell he had drank too much, the drink dulling and slowing his senses. She easily ducked beneath his arm, kicked his legs out from under him, then placed a foot on his chest to keep him on the floor, the end of her staff resting against his throat.
	“You’re getting slow in your old age,” she taunted with a smugness in her voice as she quickly removed the staff and her foot before he could try to retaliate. She offered him a hand up.
	He grumbled foully under his breath. Ignoring her helping hand, he pulled himself up using another stool.
	“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.” Rayadell grabbed her key and handed it to the barmaid.
	“Thanks.” The girl gave a small smile and nodded toward Valos. 
	Rayadell only gave a nod in welcome. She headed to the door as Valos, still grumbling to himself, slapped a few coins onto the counter.
	Though the sun still had yet to rise above the horizon, casting the world in a dull gray light preceding its arrival, people had already begun to traverse the streets. Candles glowed in a few windows.
	She cast a quick glance around the street, pulled her hood over her face, then headed out into the town to pick up a couple supplies before making her way to Caldavail. If she wanted time to scope the area out, to search for any sign of misgivings, she would have to move fast.
	With that thought, she quickened her pace and headed deeper into the town.