Whether a minute or an hour had passed, she did not know. Her eyes were fixed to the figure of the tall, dark-haired caravan leader as he strode off towards the largest of the fires. Many others were gathered nearby, their voices carrying on the cool night air.
The hooded girl slipped across the pale ribbon of the road, vanishing into a thicket of bushes nearby. To a keen ear, the soft ring of steel betrayed the drawing of a blade in the darkness.
From her hiding spot, she studied the dark-haired man, though her view of him was constantly muddled by other folk bustling about, including the fair-headed young boy guarding his side. She crept across the cool, damp grass, crouching low, and disappeared beneath one of the wagons.
Peering out, she bade her time patiently, her fingers clasped firmly around the hilt of her dagger. At last, the dark-haired man had his fill from his wineskin, and shooed his young protector away as he walked beyond the circle of wagons to relieve himself. She shifted carefully, poised, watching. Her heart clamored sickeningly within her chest, and as the man turned his face to the moonlight, she readied herself.
A steady, slow rhythm of soft boots against packed dirt was the only sound that broke the golden, autumn afternoon, aside from the soft chorus of crickets and birds in the nearby trees. Her face lifted now and then, looking over the fields, as if seeking something. More than once, she thought she spied the dark grey shape of the hound in the distance, though it might have been her imagination.
A faint, shrill cry sounded from the air, drawing her attention skyward. Her steps slowed as she squinted at the sun-washed blue sky. A large bird of some kind swept overhead, too distant to make out clearly, though the sunlight seemed to catch on its plumage with a reddish gold glint. She studied the creature for a long moment, as it flew in broad, slow circles above her, rather than away towards some destination.
She moved onward presently, her shoulders faintly hunched, as if some burden sat upon her. Gazing east, she thought of what lay ahead, rather than what lay behind. A familiar face, a gentle voice; these were what she hoped to find upon her return. Things to dampen the bitterness of her disappointment.
