If there was one thing that Raelynn hated, it was to travel by foot.

Traveling by foot for more than a few hours.

Yet, here she was traveling by foot for what seemed like days. She longed for a horse, for a carriage to sit and rest in. Such luxuries would not be found in this time of tragedy and chaos. Her new cloak already looked to have seen better days. Right in the center was a line of blood, from her stomach to her neck. A reminder of her escape, a reminder that she still lived. The blood was not hers after all. Her spirit seemed in a perpetual state of misery. The outlook was foggy. She wanted to leave this party of companions who all seemed to be as silent in terror and shock as she was, or powering through it with mindless chatter to one another. 

She did not see much of Alim as they trekked. He was no longer her protector, for he had to be his own. They all were, sure, safety was found in numbers - but she got the distinct sense that at any moment a lot of them would skip away. She knew that she would. In the silence she let her mind fall to fantasy. She though of a roaring fire in an inn, with a duckdown bed, and Autumn outside. Falling leaves creating a canvas of burnt orange, burgandy and yellow - like watercolour, like a painting. Picturesque romance. 

She could smell lavender, honeyed mead, and game meat roasting against the flames. Her mouth watered. She had been living off of jerky and foraged goods. She imagined herself laid out on the furs and blankets seductively, naught but a silken slip to cover her curves. In the doorway she pictured a strong man, muscles rippling - he was a little sweaty, hands dirty. A beard and piercing blue eyes. He would take off his armour piece by piece, licking his lips at the sight of the Breton biting her lip at him. She was picturing him removing his trousers when she was rudely dragged from her fantasy by the abrupt sound of weeping, of screaming, and of talking - a discordant orchestra of pain and anguish. If she could put a sound to how she felt inside it would be that. 

The had arrived upon a camp of refugees, and one by one her companions slipped away to find something to do. Their leader, the Khajit, and the knight seemed to go together.

She couldn't spot Judena or Alim, and so she was left to let her eyes travel over the scene. To drink in the landscape of sorrow. Something caught her eye more than anything else. It was a small child, she was stood crying against an abyss of nothing. Her eyes glazed over, filling up with tears. She watched the tears roll one by one down each cheek, leaving a red stain behind each one. An ocean of tears cascading endlessly. She noticed that the girl was bleeding too, there were clots of blood on her around her forehead, scratches and scrapes on the soft skin of each arm. She was wearing one shoe. 

Raelynn choked back tears of her own. Tears she didn't know that she had in her. The child was her. Innocent, blonde curls falling to her waist, blue eyes like sapphires. Clothes made of fine silks, but torn and shredded away from her tiny body. 

She then took her role in the camp, like the rest of the party had drifted away to do. She knelt down to the child - coming eye to eye with her. Immediately the girl stopped, and bit down on her lip, short sharp breaths replaced the bellowing. Raelynn took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Shhh now princess, you're safe now. You're safe..." she offered the girl a smile and rubbed her thumbs in soothing circles on the backs of her hands. She let go of her hands to start examining her forehead. She found a cut there - luckily not too deep, but she would need to clean it which might cause the girl some pain. So she began to sing to her

[i]"Quiet little Princess,
All will be fine, 
For I am yours and you are mine.

Close your eyes and dream away
For this will soon be yesterday

One day you'll wear a crown
Upon your pretty head
So for now just dream away
And sleep inside your bed..."[/i]

As she sang, she cleansed the wound - using torn cloth soaked in warm water to wipe away the blood. She pressed gently and began to clean her arms too. Finally, she took another dry cloth and ran it softly under the girls eyes, and offered her another smile. "Now, where is your Mama and Papa?" she asked, taking her hands again. The child glanced to her right and pointed a finger at two shapes on the ground. Two shapes covered with white sheets.

Raelynn's lip began to wobble and it was all she could do to stop from crying. She picked up the girl and walked her away from the bodies, bringing her to a campfire and sitting her down beside some other adults. She explained what had happened and started to walk away. She found herself listening to the conversation with Rhea, Brynja, Daro'Vasora, and some self appointed ranger named Brutus. It was soon after that even that group seemed to split. However, she had heard elsewhere that volunteers were needed. 

She wanted to get out of the camp, she didn't want to be confronted any more with this shit. With more orphans, with sick children, with [i]dead bodies[/i]. She wanted to move, to run away from it. Staying meant dealing with it now, and she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready. She took a look back at the girl, there was no fire inside of her now, she was dead behind those beautiful eyes. Raelynn couldn't stay here around that. Her heart ached enough from just the sight of her. Any longer and she would be dead behind the eyes too. She didn't want to get wrapped into caring for every single poor soul here. She didn't want anyone to see that weakness in her, any vulnerability.

She was going to help the Colovian Rangers. She was going to get out of here.