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[center] Winton, in the Inn with Faeril[/center] 

	Dareen had been placed in a position she would never have imagined she would find herself in just six months ago. Lone bodyguard of a Black Widow. Being somewhat of a social pushover it wasn't the hardest thing in the world to wordlessly imply what Dareen should do and have her do it. But as Faeril, the Black Widow, complained about her companions, her back turned, moving and arranging the trunks and the items within them, a pit of guilt and dread sat within the Pruulish woman's heart. This didn't feel right. Dareen had to say something. It was probably a bad time, given that Faeril may be in a bad mood, but this was the first time she and Faeril had been alone with each other. Truly alone, with no one to listen in.

	Her heart rate ticked up nervously as she smiled weakly, nodding along with her complaints. Her sword was sheathed on her hip, her two hands wringing each other and cracking joints. As it so often was, Dareen's back was against the wall. Literally, and figurativly. With plans of returning home to Pruul, and with the Black Widow she had found herself serving isolated from the others, an opportunity had presented itself.

	After a long silence, she worked up the courage to begin speaking. [color=c4df9b]"Um...Faeril."[/color] She started quietly, waiting for the Black Widow to acknowledge her. [color=c4df9b] I have to talk to you about something and...I..."[/color] She glanced around the empty room, exasperated. [color=c4df9b]"Wh- why am I here? Alone? With you?"[/color] The ex-mercenary asked. 

	[color=c4df9b]"You...you know what I've done. What I [i]do.[/i] I'm not...[i]trustworthy."[/i][/color] Dareen managed. She leaned forward, emphasising her point with earnestly clenched fists. Dareen was a killer. A murderer. She exhanced blood for coin. Moreover she gained power and wealth by hunting down and killing Black Widows. Healers and exiles. How many little hilltop homes had she kicked the doors in? How many Black Widows and their found familes has Dareen torn apart with steel and strategy? To her shame, she didn't know the exact number. Perhaps it wasn't that Dareen wasn't trustworthy, she wasn't worthy, period. Instead of hatred and disdain, she had been mostly treated with respect and cordiality. She even liked these people, and it seemed like some of them actually liked her, too. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel real. Dareen knew she had somehow tricked her way into becoming these people's ally. These feelings were all bottled up and much to her chagrin, needed to be talked about.