She woke up, her eyes fluttering awake and she felt completely and utterly disorientated for a moment. She was cold and wet and shivering with a heavy weight on top of her and with arms around her. She was clinging on to the man next to her and, as consciousness fell in on her like a memory or an avalanche, Faith realised that Padraig was sleeping. They had found a place to shelter last night, finally. A large tree, large enough for them both to sit side by side and have both their backs leaning against the trunk. Then, once they had found that they had built up a pile of leaves and mulch to cover themselves with. That meant that they could dig down into what had naturally built up by the tree before covering themselves and each other with the leaves and mulch they had collected. Half way through that process, they had laid out his coat and her cloak, putting weight and adding an extra layer to the covering, and then the rest of the detritus from the forest floor. The whole time the rain poured, but it seemed to be less here as they were covered by the canopy.
They hadn't managed to find anything to eat, the dark playing tricks with what they saw and leaving both of them entirely unsure about what the mushrooms they found were. So, Faith had collected up a pile of them and had wrapped them up next to the two of them. As she woke she realised that every bit of her ached, she was cold and had slept in cold and wet clothes; but they were alive and as much as she had promised herself that she would not fall asleep and she would stay awake to protect Padraig, she had drifted off just about as comfortable as it was possible to be. Their combined body heat kept them warm and, whilst she had limited experience to say the least, she was fairly sure that this was the least intimate way of waking up in a man's arms that it was possible to do. She smiled to herself and lay her head back down for just a moment, resting against him and convinced herself that she was just resting for a trill.
And when she woke again, she was alone and curled into a ball on the forest floor. Ironically, the sunlight was beating down and the trial seemed to be quite a pleasant one, fresh and clean after the thunder of the night before. Blinking in surprise and sitting up she looked around and saw that Padraig was there, kneeling and looking at their selection of mushrooms. "Morning" she said with a smile and emerged from underneath the leaves, dusting herself off. Looking down at the ruins of her outfit, she gave him another smile, a more ironic one this time. "I am an utter sight and I have neither comb for my hair nor rouge for my cheeks. Whatever will I do?" she was whimsical as she spoke, mischief twinkling in her eyes.
The cut on her face had scabbed over but she was filthy dirty, had blood down one side of her face and her clothing was soaked through, ripped in places and also filthy. She smiled at him, though, with a cheery manner. "I don't suppose you've found anything edible in that lot, have you? And if so, have you managed to work out how to set a fire?" she wondered, not really thinking that he had, or that they could or even that it might help.
"We are going to need to find some way to cross that river" she thought aloud "Because if it was difficult to swim for non-swimmers before, the rains of last night will make it impossible now." She sighed slightly and picked up her cloak and his coat, automatically assuming that she would carry both until they were dry. They were both still soaked through and not suitable to wear. Looking down at the state she was in she sighed "The skills I have make me more valuable as a slave, you know. My owner told me the trial that he bought me that he could not possibly have a stupid slave as it would bore him. But I every skill that I have grown, my value has increased. What is the point if all I do is wear these ridiculous clothes? It is foolish." she looked briefly irritated and then sighed, shaking her head "Which way?" she wondered, looking at him with an expression which was equal parts apology and cynicism.
It seemed like maybe, just maybe, the young slave was starting to doubt her role in the world, or at the very least the sense of it.
They hadn't managed to find anything to eat, the dark playing tricks with what they saw and leaving both of them entirely unsure about what the mushrooms they found were. So, Faith had collected up a pile of them and had wrapped them up next to the two of them. As she woke she realised that every bit of her ached, she was cold and had slept in cold and wet clothes; but they were alive and as much as she had promised herself that she would not fall asleep and she would stay awake to protect Padraig, she had drifted off just about as comfortable as it was possible to be. Their combined body heat kept them warm and, whilst she had limited experience to say the least, she was fairly sure that this was the least intimate way of waking up in a man's arms that it was possible to do. She smiled to herself and lay her head back down for just a moment, resting against him and convinced herself that she was just resting for a trill.
And when she woke again, she was alone and curled into a ball on the forest floor. Ironically, the sunlight was beating down and the trial seemed to be quite a pleasant one, fresh and clean after the thunder of the night before. Blinking in surprise and sitting up she looked around and saw that Padraig was there, kneeling and looking at their selection of mushrooms. "Morning" she said with a smile and emerged from underneath the leaves, dusting herself off. Looking down at the ruins of her outfit, she gave him another smile, a more ironic one this time. "I am an utter sight and I have neither comb for my hair nor rouge for my cheeks. Whatever will I do?" she was whimsical as she spoke, mischief twinkling in her eyes.
The cut on her face had scabbed over but she was filthy dirty, had blood down one side of her face and her clothing was soaked through, ripped in places and also filthy. She smiled at him, though, with a cheery manner. "I don't suppose you've found anything edible in that lot, have you? And if so, have you managed to work out how to set a fire?" she wondered, not really thinking that he had, or that they could or even that it might help.
"We are going to need to find some way to cross that river" she thought aloud "Because if it was difficult to swim for non-swimmers before, the rains of last night will make it impossible now." She sighed slightly and picked up her cloak and his coat, automatically assuming that she would carry both until they were dry. They were both still soaked through and not suitable to wear. Looking down at the state she was in she sighed "The skills I have make me more valuable as a slave, you know. My owner told me the trial that he bought me that he could not possibly have a stupid slave as it would bore him. But I every skill that I have grown, my value has increased. What is the point if all I do is wear these ridiculous clothes? It is foolish." she looked briefly irritated and then sighed, shaking her head "Which way?" she wondered, looking at him with an expression which was equal parts apology and cynicism.
It seemed like maybe, just maybe, the young slave was starting to doubt her role in the world, or at the very least the sense of it.
