Haruki was in a haze the whole time, her eyes wide open but her mind far, far away. It would take her hours to notice that she was no longer in an empty room, but a crowded and filthy jail cell with people of questionable integrity. Upon realizing this, she closed her eyes and mentally retraced the steps that led her here, wondering where she had made a mistake.

Was it when she had helped a deer escape from a hunter's trap, and mended its wounds? No - the hunter was not fast enough to catch her anyway, a heavy-footed stranger to the part of the woods she frequented.

Was it when she swindled a spoiled poet by selling him a fragment of the dream she promised by watering it down with bone-white ash? No - he didn't know the difference, and the clueless man even thanked her by paying her more than the usual sum.

Was it when...

She winced. The memory of a young girl dying in her arms despite everything she did and the anger of her grieving parents tore at her conscience, making her wish she could sleep it away and forget who she was once more. But it was too late. The effects of her concoction had already worn off, and she would have to forage to create more. And anyway, the familiar reek of alcohol was making it difficult for her to return to her peace.

It came to no surprise for Haruki to see that she was surrounded by what seemed to be dangerous misfits, all armed with swords. No innocent or ordinary man walked around with swords such as theirs, and two young men in particular caught her attention. They seemed to be quite out of place, apparel hinting at a highborn, remarkable standing in their respective societies. A strange scent wafted about from the black-nailed man, reminding her of bitter and deadly herbs, and looking very much like a coiled viper, waiting to strike. The other one seemed less ominous, yet still had an air of gravitas about him, like a fledgling crane just about to learn how to fly. She wondered who they might have angered to land in such a dreadful place.

The rest of the rabble seemed right in their element - a cripple, an ogre and a drunk. Haruki wondered how the cripple lost his leg and arm, marveling at the skill of whomever saved him if it was the result of an injury, and the wretched luck of the cripple who survived it. Even stranger was that he carried a sword, implying an ability to not only walk, but to fight. A benign, carefree air seemed to radiate from him, which was decidedly unmasculine and very unusual. The ogre close by was quite the creature in comparison, a hulking mass of fighting and no doubt scarred, flesh. She felt that it was highly likely this visit to jail was not his first, and wondered whether he could be coaxed into starting a jailbreak. He certainly seemed to have the fortitude and stregth to break down the rusty cell doors. Finally, there was an old, well-built man stinking of alcohol. Perhaps he wasn't drunk at the moment, but the years of drinking seemed to have broiled the odor into his flesh. Oddly enough, Haruki noticed that he had what appeared to be a string of large prayer beads around his neck. Perhaps even after a life of pleasure and sin, a man has his fill and longs to repent, she thought. He had a friendly face, which oddly enough, put her at ease. Still, she did not trust him enough to talk. She decided to watch and keep silent. Anyway, it was what was expected of her. No use in rocking the boat at the moment.

Eventually, the guards came for all of them and they were brought to a wagon. Now, in addition to the stench of the drunk was the stink of unwashed, sweaty animals and their shit collecting into a sack. Haruki gasped for air and closed her eyes, willing herself not to vomit - not that there was anything to vomit, as she could not remember what, or when her last meal was.

Then all of a sudden, all hell broke loose. Which, at this point, no longer surprised Haruki. Hell had been breaking loose for quite some time now, and she wondered whether or not they were all already suffering in hell, anyway.

Somehow, Haruki found herself tumbling against the wagon's hard walls, no doubt bruises forming on impact. She picked herself up, prepared to break her fingers for a desperate escape, when suddenly one of the captives - who had managed to free himself quickly, a sign of calm and skill for someone as young as him - came back to begin freeing them. Most gave him their thanks - even the ogre, which she took as proof that at the very least, the criminals she found herself with had some measure of civility and were not as lawless or as unreasonable as she had first thought. She also realized that the cripple was a woman, which further served to increase her curiosity. Nevertheless, there were demons about, and that was the concern at hand. Following their lead, she thanked the young man who freed her with a wordless bow, and also inspected the chest quickly, retrieving her hori-hori, as well as her pouch of medicinal supplies. Hearing the ogre speak surprised her somewhat, and she chided herself for thinking him dumb.

"Sir, the beasts would hunt us even as we run. Winds blow down from the hills. They will still follow us with ease."