Have I endured loneliness with grace?
Liffey trudged through the mud as she left town, her gaze on the ground while she searched it for tracks. They had been working odd jobs here and there since entering town and Hulfryn, a man down the road from the Inn they stayed at during the bad weather, had asked Liffey to find his fifth sheep, who was apparently missing. She kicked a rock down the hill she was standing on, watching it roll to a stop at the base where a cluster of red rocks jutted out of the Earth. Everything was so red here, from the flowers to the rocks to the dirt on the trodden paths. She thought it was ominous.
She had followed a blood trail to the edge of town but had not gone any further and it would have been fruitless anyhow, as it began to pour heavily down on Herne. Whatever tracks or trail had been left would be swept away in the storm rolling over the town by nightfall. She turned, making her slow way back to the tavern toward the middle of town, where Sedryn would be waiting for her.
Stopping in the road, she turned her face up toward the rain and closed her eyes, letting it drench her skin and hair without a care for her health. She'd spent so long traveling on her own for the past few years that the idea of returning to a warm body felt foreign to her. She had been alone so long now, Liffey no longer was sure that she kew how to appropriately interact with other people and she knew that she ran on a short temper these days, snapping about little things and crying easily, though she'd tried her hardest to hide the latter.
She heavily sighed and continued on, approaching the tavern with some trepidation. She was wet, sore, and starving, and her mood would be sour. But when she entered, she had a bowl of stew, and she found Sedryn sitting at a table, and she felt warmth creep into her fingertips when she saw him. Still wet and still sore, Liffey decided that if she did find that sheep, she was going to roast it over a fire.
