[center][h3]Where the Road Leads[/h3][/center]
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[i]3rd Midyear, Early Morning[/i]

Megana was feeling quite rested when she woke up in the morning. Having spent all day cooped up at the hotel had been her own choice, but by the time evening crept in, she found herself feeling rather restless and in need of something other than migrating from one room to the other in hopes of refreshing her mind of something other than the beautiful but repetitious architecture. Finding nothing to entertain her mind and neither seeking to disturb anyone with idle chitchat, she had decided to simply call it an early night and had headed off to sleep. As her mind had been a little more at ease than the previous night, she found herself waking up at dawn with no terrible dreams to recount. By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, the Nord woman had already washed and dressed up, simply waiting for the curfew to end so that she could head out. The heat still terrified her some, but she was wearing the clothes she had bought in Anvil and hoped they would help with some ventilation.

After making sure her water skin was filled to the brim, Meg had left the Three Crowns Hotel. The sun had only just risen, so the air was still cool though the promise of heat was there. There was the humidity from being close to the sea, but she very much doubted the sea breeze would be cooling anyone down.

[i]'Less they're comin' from the desert.[/i] Now there was another prospect that had the winter loving Nord terrified as well. The group's journey had taken them through all sorts of terrain- was there really anything stopping them from heading out to even more inhospitable places?

"Heh." She was suddenly visited with words she'd often hear from J'raij. 

[i]"May your road lead you to warm sands."[/i]

"Talos knows the road has," she muttered under her breath, both disgruntled yet amused at the same time. She knew it was something all khajiit said, but it was still ironic now that she thought of it. [i]Bet you would've liked it here...[/i]

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone walked passed her, lightly brushing against her as they made their way down the market street that was only now beginning to fill up. Looking in the person's direction, she saw it was a young Redguard lad she judged no more than ten years of age or about there. Head tilting to the side, she couldn't help but think that he reminded her quite a bit of herself as child, from the disheveled clothes, the messy hair, the skittish way he moved, the pouch he was shoving in his pocket-

"Huh." Her hand patted at her belt and she could help but let out a curt laugh. [i]Ya li'l skeever.[/i] She wasn't actually upset with him, but that was the only money she had left from the winnings Brynja had generously given her in Anvil. If she wanted to buy even some fruit to snack on, she'd need that pouch and not merely the air that was now occupying where it had been.

With a small sigh, she followed after the bow, keeping enough distance from him that he wouldn't detect her, but also keeping close enough that she wouldn't lose him. Despite the fact that she wasn't angry at having been pilfered from, there was the annoyance that she was getting lost in the streets of Gilane with absolutely no map. Just like with Anvil, she had planned to draw out a crude masterpiece- alas, this morning would not be kind to the amateur cartographer.

A good while passed before the boy finally came to a stop at the end of a short and narrow alleyway. Meg had to admit it was quite a nice place for a street rat to stay in- with the two buildings on either side so close together, it provided a nice amount of shade as well as protection from other elements like wind and sand. Unfortunately for the child, it did not keep away a Nord woman who wanted her money back.

She coughed audibly, and the boy finally noticed her presence. The shock on his face quickly shifted to panic when he realized he'd just led a stranger to his safe place, and said stranger was blocking the way.

"Okay!" he yelped, quickly pulling the pouch from his pocket and dropping it on the dusty ground before him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it! Please don't-"

"Hush," Meg replied, a small frown on her face as she carefully approached the boy. "I ain' gonna hurt ya."

The boy didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't run off- if anything he seemed almost docile, pressing himself against the wall to put space between himself and Meg. She was quick to notice this, though quicker to grab her money pouch and safely stow it away in her pocket.

"Y'don' look like yer used t'this," she commented, looking the kid up and down. From how easy it was to catch him to his demeanor as well as the way he spoke, it didn't seem like he had spent much time on the streets. "Yer lucky I'm the one standin' here an' not some pissed brute." Her eyes narrowed as she held her arms akimbo. "Why're y'stealin' from people, hm? The way y'are, you'll be caught an' punished soon 'nough."

The boy's fists clenched tightly; he opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. Meg raised an eyebrow, her expression stern until she saw the tremble in his chin. "Hey," she started, this time her tone a little gentler. "Whatsa matter, kid?"

"It's- it's not like I want to!" he finally burst out. He stuck his chin out defiantly, but the Nord could see the wetness in his eyes. "I have no choice!" It was a look she recognize immediately, having worn it many a times as a child in Riften.

"Then why?" she prompted, slackening her arms. "Y'can tell me, kid. If I was gonna snitch on you, I woulda done it already." She took a step closer to the boy. "Where's yer ma an' pa, kid?"

"My name's not 'kid'," the boy replied indignantly. "It's Zahir." He looked down after that, the fierce look on his face fading as it was replaced with sadness. "My mother died. My father... he's gone. They took him."

"They?" The boy named Zahir was about to speak up, but Meg raised a hand to hush him, realizing what he must have meant. "Wait. I know who y'mean."

"Father said it wasn't right," he muttered. The brave face he was trying to put up failed as a lone tear found its way down his cheek. "They couldn't just come and take our land from us."

"An' it wasn' long 'fore he was taken away by them," Meg finished bitterly, her eyes darkening as she watched the boy angrily wipe the wetness from his cheek. She had heard of such things happening to both Stormcloak and Imperial supporters during the civil war; it only made sense that the same thing would happen here. "I'm sorry lad... I know how it feels t'lose family."

"He's going to come back!" Zahir muttered, glaring up at Meg.

"Aye, perhaps, but what good's that if yer sittin' pretty in a cell for stealin', hm?" Meg reached out and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "The way yer goin', you'll be caught a quick as... heh, today."

"I was hungry," Zahir muttered.

"Where's yer house?" Meg asked curiously. Just because his mother was dead and his father a prisoner of the dwemer didn't have to mean he was homeless, right?

"Father was paying to stay there. When he was caught, I wasn't allowed to stay anymore."

"I see." There was a hard set to Meg's jaw. [i]'Course.[/i] This was the way of the world after all. Those in power, whether a ruler or a landlord, had the final say, and it was rare to find those among them who cared about the poor and downtrodden.

"Hey," she finally said. "D'you know the way back t'the Three Crowns Hotel?"

Zahir blinked at her, clearly not expecting that to be the next thing she said. "Uh... yes?"

"Good," she replied, patting his shoulder. "Lead the way then, lad. Breakfast's on me." She wasn't sure if what she was doing would be acceptable by the others, and more importantly the Poncy Man, but this boy here was someone she could actually help, and by Mara, she was [i]not[/i] going to turn her back on an innocent victim of clashing powers.