[i][h3]the 5th I’d Second Seed, At The Skingrad Refugee Camp...[/h3][/i]


When the Altmer met up with their previous companions again, Anifaire was surprised to find she was glad Alim was there, though his safety didn’t come as a surprise. Despite the murky, muddy ground and humid weather, Anifaire immediately knelt beside their small campfire, without saying anything to Sol or Durante’s; she didn’t have the energy, but mentally made note to thank them after just a quick nap... 

Anifaire woke a few hours later, curled by the fireside. It wasn’t yet dark, and it struck her that she had no tent of her own, like most of the others had set up. She looked around for someone she knew, but found most of their group gone or otherwise occupied. 

She stood up, her dress dragging in the mud and her cloak half wet. Disgruntled by her state, she struggled to find a comfortable way to wear the cook she’d been given, but ultimately hung it up beside the fire to dry. 

Her stomach rumbles violently and she recalled the thin rations she’d been eating. Was there somewhere here she could get food? Hopeful, she headed out of the camp area, worried about getting lost but attempting to note landmarks as she went. 

She tried to stick close but eventually reached the edge of the camp. Finally, she saw a man rolling up a couple
Of tents and gathering gear from a campsite. Was he leaving? She couldn’t tell. His items appeared to be an eclectic mix, gathered rom different parts of the camp. 

Anifaire approaches the gruff looking man, notic My that there was a pot of something on the fire by where he was getting the tents. The dirty Imperial finished rolling up the tent before turning to
Look at her. 

“Wha’ do ya want? Food?” He eyed her, and she was grateful the mud obscured any quality her dress may have been before the journey. 

“Yes,” she cleared her throat. “And I need a tent.” 

“Oh do ya?” He stood back, arms crossed, and nodded his head at her neck. Confused, she looked down. She was wearing one of her necklaces - gold, sapphire, and emeralds. Her hand reached up to touch it. “That real gold?”

“Oh course it is!” Anifaire blurred out, offended. The man smiled and held out his hand. Anifaire gripped the necklace. Her mother had given it to her. She frowned, but unclasped it and handed it over. He grabbed it happily and shrugged.

“Take what ya want, it ain’t mine anyway.” 

“Hey!” Anifaire exclaimed. “You can’t just sell what isn’t yours!” But the man was already leaving. 

Huffing in irritation, Anifaire swung the tent over her shoulder and grabbed the cooking pot of - perhaps slightly old 1 stew. It was heavy, and she had to walk slowly, eventually almost dragging the tent behind her. 

[hr]

“Was it the Bosmer family with the sick boy?” Anifaire muttered to herself, trying to navigate through her landmarks back to her group’s campsite. 

She’d turned herself around a few times, panting heavily in an attempt to carry everything. The stew was cold. She looked around, trying to distinguish the ragged tents and sock people. 

“The hanging pole!” She realized, noting a pole she had noticed before, which had rope and linens hanging from it. “That means.. left?” She guessed. 

She turned uncertainly in the direction and he foot caught on the tent she was dragging. She tumbled over into the muck, the pot of cold stew flying out of the pot and spilling all over her and the ground. Disheartened, she turned to look at the tent, which had caught on a stray log and torn wide open. 

Her efforts for nothing, Anifaire left the empty pot and torn tent where they were. The mud and water clinging to her clothes made her shiver as she continued.

Dragging her feet along the muddy pathways, by the time Anifaire found camp, she was wishing for a change of clothes and new boots. 

Having reached the camp as empty handed and empty bellied as before. Anifaire grabbed her half-dry cloak and wrapped it around herself next to the dying fireside. 

The flames were almost entirely gone, but she wasn’t sure how to rekindle one. She lifted the poking stick left beside the fire and shoved it into the coals. The wood on top tumbled down and a gust of smoke rose above. 

Anifaire looked around, finding a bit more wood and tossing it on the coals, but no flames suddenly appeared as she had thought they might.

“Oh!” Anifaire exclaimed. [i]I can use magic to do it.[/i]  She’d forgotten, as she’s never used her magic for this type of purpose before.

Conjuring a few flames, Anifaire managed to relight the fire and at least gain a bit of warmth as she huddled beside it, miserable. She’d never experienced conditions such as these in her life.