It was probably childish of her to be so frustrated and angry. But truth be told, she was frustrated and had been so for much longer than their conversation. And a great deal of that irritation was not Darin's fault either. She really wasn't sure who's fault it was, or if it could be blamed on any one person. She had been frustrated with her work as an Eija. With the Sol she belonged to. She had been frustrated by the vision and how maddeningly vague it had been, and with the months spent on the road, alone, discouraged, and bitter. And now she was frustrated with the way things were working out. Some reasonable part of her assured her that it would blow over and they'd sort things out in time. But she didn't feel very reasonable at the moment. 

It occurred to her that the one thing in the recent years of her life that she'd been at peace with was her own death. Execution by her own blade in the hands of another. Somehow that had been so much easier to swallow than any of this. That frightened her. What did that mean? Anything? It wasn't like she [I]wanted[/I] to be dead, but when events fell into place and the sentence passed, she'd been so...ready for it. Not eager, just...prepared. She supposed that she'd had half her life to think things through and to know deep down where her choices would lead her. When she had done her crime she knew the price to be paid. 

But things had changed so fast. It was like the moment she accepted her path, fate blew up a storm and in hiding that road uncovered another. And she wasn't sure where it would lead. Maybe that was what had her so on edge. 

Ridahne rolled over, unable to find rest just yet. She stared up at the gray rock above her and spoke in Azurian, [I]"You got a lot of nerve, Ancestors, choosing me. Was it your intention to find the worst possible person and turn them into some kind of hero or did you just do this to me out of spite? Maybe it's The Tree orchestrating this, not all of you. Doesn't matter. You should have picked someone else. Someone better. I am what they made me and what they made is not good. I should not be the one to do this task." [/I]

She burned inside. Frustration, anger, bitterness, and even a small amount of despair bubbled up inside her and threatened to find a way out if she didn't release all that energy somehow. Ridahne stood and, ignoring the rainfall, went outside with her sword drawn and began to go through her stances and forms with all the precision and elegance of a dancer. But there was power there, too as she swung, the steel ringing faintly as it sliced through the air. It was something she did when she was stressed, needed to clear her head, or was upset about something that could not be so easily fixed. It was something to focus on, something that gave her purpose. The intensity and speed of her 'dance' grew, building and building until it came to a peak as she swung her sword hard into the nearby trunk of a tree, feeling the shock of it rattle her arm and shoulder. She released a scream, a feral battle-cry that seemed to sum up everything she felt all at once. 

Ridahne stepped back, panting. Well, she did feel better. It felt good to get some of that out of her system. But as the adrenaline wore away she became increasingly aware of how cold she was, not to mention wet, and that did little to improve her mood. Feeling cooled down but not very cheerful, Ridahne heaved the blade out of the tree trunk, went back inside the cave, wiped it down with care and sheathed it, then curled up again close to the fire. Part of her thought maybe she should send Mitaja out to find Darin and keep an eye on her, but with the way Talbot leered at her when she'd just gone out of the cave, Ridahne guessed the horse wouldn't have it. Besides, she had an inexplicable feeling that if something truly awful happened, Ridahne would just...know. She had a good sense for those things anyway but she suspected perhaps there was more at play there. So she settled in and, feeling foolish for getting all wet, eventually found uneasy sleep.