[center][h3]Fenne[/h3][/center]

Even outside of battle, a mercenary company never lacked things to do. In the wake of every skirmish came maintenance, each setting-up of camp took a lot of work from its occupants, and since an army marched on its stomach, every meal became a sizable endeavor. Lately, Fenne found herself lending such efforts more of a hand than she might have otherwise. She told herself that she merely played her part, but in the back of her mind she knew what spurred her to contribute so.

The sneers. The whispers. At every turn she could see those scathing faces and hear those derisive murmurs, and practically none of them were driven by dread or superstition about her red eyes and the heritage they supposedly evidenced, which she would have welcomed gladly. Since her arrival to the Red Branch not too long ago, she had gradually become aware that her attitude both on and off the battlefield won her few friends. In the town of Gespenst, such behavior brought the woman respect, but here she found herself greeted instead with contempt, disdain, and dismissal. Rumors flew not of a legendary warrior reincarnated, but of an egotistical lunatic kept around solely because, at the end of the day, she could swing a hammer well enough. The unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling of isolation had begun to gnaw at the edges of her mind. Warfare she could handle, particularly since the politics and logistics of it all concerned her little, but this more internal conflict troubled her.

Not too many of the combatants among Red Branch could beat her decisively, but over the weeks those who could did not hesitate to teach her a few lessons, each of which served to multiply her doubts. The stubborn scar across Fenne's face, still not healed a month after her sound defeat by Aria, stung when hit by any strong gust of wind. Every ensuing lance of pain told Fenne that things had changed—and that she, too, would need to change. Of course, she refused to betray herself or her mission, but the pressure remained, weighing in on her from all sides. In the end, whether motivated by the necessities of being a mercenary or by a new, insidious wish to be wanted, Fenne chose to serve the convoy in surly silence.

That impetus led to a lot busy days, but today, with camp already set up and most duties attended to, was an exception. Try as she might, Fenne couldn't find much to do, and after some wandering around she sat herself down by a tent to focus on the finer details of her equipment. Before too long her armor sat next to her in the grass, free of dirt and grime, and Fenne turned her attention to her scourge. She straightened its claws, then sharpened them with a whetstone, turning the lash over and over in her hands. After that Fenne worked to tighten and trim the interwoven lengths of hide that formed the bulk of her belonging's length. Tough but supple, it cracked like a whip in battle, and the strain of use threatened to render it useless without proper care. Fenne's mind wandered as she labored at the task, drifting back to the handmade charms she had fashioned in her youth back in the mountains. [i]A little demon's talismans,[/i] she remembered, recalling the times she terrorized the other children with those 'cursed artifacts'. Not for the first time she thought about how easy it would be to leave this gaggle of hoodlums and return to a cozy life in Gespenst, but just as before she set the notion aside. [i]My time being a big fish in a little pond is over.[/i] Having opted to let such thoughts be, Fenne honed her focus on her scourge to make the finishing touches.

A few minutes later, she was done. [color=FF2400]“There,”[/color] she said aloud, pleased with her handiwork. Reaching over to her pile of armor, she grabbed a vambrace, fastened it on her left arm, and wound the scourge around it. Eager to try it out, she hopped to her feet and sent it flying with a powerful cast of her forearm. The scourge unraveled, shot out, and dug its claws into the side of a tent a half-dozen feet away in the blink of an eye. [color=FF2400]“Hahah!”[/color] Fenne chuckled through a toothy grin. [color=FF2400]“Back in business.”[/color] She gave the scourge a tug. It ripped free from the tent, leaving a few small gashes in the canvas. [color=FF2400]“Hm.”[/color] Hopefully nobody would notice.