Abigail couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t much of a surprise; she was in unfamiliar surroundings and had a lot on her mind at the moment. Her evening was, in itself, fairly uneventful too; bunched shoulder-to-shoulder with rowdy hunters who were slowly getting shitfaced, Abigail awkwardly joined in conversation once or twice, gave a couple glances to Dysten and then vanished from the tavern entirely. Were it not for the aforementioned pale blonde maid who spotted her, Abigail could’ve crept back into her quarters in the Ballanger Household almost completely undetected. “Yeah, I get it; servants see everything, don’t they? I used to be a farmgirl.” Abigail smiled amicably at the other girl and seemed a little off-put by the way she seemed to avoid her gaze.

Abigail spent the night drawing fishpeople and a crude portrait of Anastasia from memory into her diary, writing down as much as she knew about both. She especially wrote down the name of the household, the name of her guard and the fact that her name ‘carried weight’ - whatever that could mean. The fishmonster was easier to write about since she had a hands-on experience with the beast and then spied on it for the better part of a day. A few hours after dawn, there came a knocking on her door.

It was the maid again. Abigail beamed over at her new friend who, in return, gave a quiet nod and went to clean up the ruckus that Abigail left when she bounced on and slept in the bed. “How come you don’t say much?” she asked the maid, and obviously received no reply. “Is it against your religion?” The maid pondered over this and nodded tentatively. Abigail slowly nodded in understanding. “Where do I go now? Do I go eat breakfast?” she asked uncertainly, and the maid ushered her up and down a series of corridors. As she crossed the courtyard, she spotted the barracks. “Is that where Anastasia is? Can I go see her?” She was met with a gentle shove and a furious head-shake.

Abigail eventually found herself in the dining quarters with a bowl of fruit, some bread and a tall glass of milk. She nibbled away but people weren’t too keen on sitting down to eat - there appeared to be some sort of commotion. This was not the family’s eating quarters, obviously, but it looked like the servants and some of the guardsmen were hurrying about on official business. Abigail leant over to her newest friend, who was silently chewing on some dried jerky and a bit of toast. “What’s happened?”

“Deaths in the city. Vampire marks on them,” whispered the maid conspiratorially. Abigail perked a brow and nodded thoughtfully. She drank some more milk, set the glass aside, and murmured:

“Is that why I couldn’t see Anastasia? She’s already out trying to fix this?”
“Mhm.”
“D’you think I can go help her?”

The maid squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, drumming her fingers on the table as her mind raced. “I could-...ask,” she ventured. Abigail peered at her friend with concern, a little frown gracing her features.

“You’re gonna get in trouble if you ask though, aren’t you?” Abigail guessed - judging by the way the maid averted her eyes, she assumed this to be the case. It wasn’t too surprising to find serving staff who get reprimanded for being a bother to their masters. Since Abigail couldn’t see anything untoward in Anastasia’s behaviour besides an apparent lack of personal space boundaries and a distinct concern in the dental hygiene of strangers, she couldn’t figure out why this pale young girl seemed so scared of seeing the huntress.

Nevertheless, the maid was persuaded by Abigail to go and seek out Anastasia. Unsurprisingly, she found the huntress in the dining room with Villiame and hovered somewhat near the doorway, doing her best to avoid being in the way. “M-madam,” she stammered, “the girl from your latest hunt would like to help you. She is in the dining quarters…” she trailed off, intensely aware of the stares upon her. Her eyes became locked to the floorboards.