Since coming to the Weyr, life had been...so odd, compared to the last two turns, and even compared to her life before the imprisonment. The people there were...friendly(for the most part). No one had tried to pick her pocket, in jest or otherwise, and there were even people who walked around without any sort of blade on them, even a small beltknife. Compared to her previous 'home', it was downright tame. Which since she was still recovering, the young woman was more than alright with a little bit of blandness for a while. But...it was already wearing off. Granted, it was never boring when she was allowed to work around the Wher's.
Becoming a Wher Candidate had been a smart move, she felt. It gave her a job to do, chores, food, a roof over her head. Adjusting to the caves that housed the wher's and their rider's had taken a few weeks. She had become so accustomed to sleeping in a tent, or even under the stars. But at least it was safe. Safe from everything, everyone up North. She felt confident the raider band wouldn't find her at Atricis, and Feraliss...
The woman frowned as her thoughts drifted towards the man. She had come to both loathe and love those times of day when her mind would wander towards her ex-captor. And it was just about daily that a thought or two of him crossed her mind. Her hands lifted to pull her brown-blonde hair up, tying it in a ponytail behind her head. She even managed to take a few steps towards the mouth of the tunnel again before pausing once more. Feraliss...She wondered where he had ended up, if he had made it out. She knew they would hunt him for what he'd done, murdering his own father. Patricide was generally frowned upon by..well, pretty much most people, even raiders apparently.
But he had done it for her...In the heat of the moment, she had wanted to ask him to come, would have demanded he come with her even, but he hadn't even given her enough time to say his name, let alone anything more. Perhaps that was why he nagged at her mind so...She had never had a chance to say...anything. When he had killed his father for her, things had clicked a little in her mind. She still hated the man, of course. He had kept her prisoner for two years, been a part of the devastation that had wiped out the only family she had ever known. Oh, how she hated him. But she also wanted to say 'thank you' for the small kindnesses before she slit his throat.
Her lips curled in a predatory grin, and a fire lit in her eyes as she stretched, then did a little spin and leap. She felt oddly high-spirited that evening, and she felt her feet almost float her way towards the tunnel entrance, headed outside to enjoy the coming stars.