Starsong

Scene 5

{--} Ren {--}

          Ren grumbled, a heavy force against her. She instinctively pushed herself up, the blanket rolling off of her. A blanket. She was in a bed. Bright light flowed in through the windows. How long had she been asleep? She instinctively reached for her dagger-- it was still there. She hadn't been stripped of her weapons, so... why... She frowned as she tried to remember. It was coming back to her, now that the shock had passed. She'd been exhausted, having barely slept the night before they set off. Tok and Piya were getting cleaned up, and Ren guessed she'd taken the opportunity for a short nap before they came back. Then she'd been shaken awake, that woman telling her to rest somewhere more comfortable, just for a bit.

          Ugh. Ren scowled. She'd been tricked into staying the night. Her internal clock was usually so well-disciplined from all the years of transient naps and travel, but warmth and exhaustion can plunge you deep. Hopefully that woman didn't expect her to pay up just because Ren stayed longer than she'd said they would. She got up, unconsciously checking for her dagger one more time, and made her way towards the door. 

          Nobody was out in the hallway. It was still quiet. Ren's frown deepened. She tried to retrace her blurry steps from the night before, making her way through the halls, past the warm-wood hall tables and the paintings hanging on the walls. Where were the kids? Why didn't that woman put them together? Ren's teeth bared in a growl at just the thought. That woman had separated them, and she didn't trust why. If she did, she wouldn't be out here in the first place, taking these kids all the way to Springspire. Some people would use anyone to get what they want. Ren knew that. But nobody was going to use these kids.

          She paused, a deep sense of dread settling in her chest.

          Hadn't she just passed that painting?

          She looked at it-- Maybe she was wrong. She hadn't been paying attention to the paintings until now. But she could have sworn she'd seen that one just a few minutes before, a fair-skinned, dark-haired centaur woman in a light noblewoman's dress, turned away from the viewer in the middle of some garden, her face unreadable. Ren couldn't say she'd seen that exactly, but her gut said this was wrong, and her gut hadn't lied to her all these years.

          She kept going, more hesitantly now. This was a setup, undeniably. It had been since the beginning. She didn't know what had come over her-- of course it was. She should have known that. It was one thing to follow your agonizingly impulsive charge to make sure she didn't get herself hurt, and to take up a warm meal to save rations-- but the bed. That was what she couldn't wrap her head around. She knew better. Why had she let the woman lead her to bed? She hadn't slept in a real one for well over thirty years, definitely didn't need it to get sleep, and after so long, she couldn't say she missed it.

          Or, she couldn't have. Until she actually got in one. She missed it a lot now.

          She shook her head, hard, gritting her teeth. She didn't need it. And she shouldn't have needed it. She didn't even know how long she'd slept. She couldn't protect herself if she let go of her instincts. There was a reason she'd developed them.

          No more cushy inns.

          No more too-good offers.

          No more letting someone-- anyone-- put her down and leave her helpless.

          As soon as she found the kids.

          Ren kept pressing forward, storming with anger. She felt as though she were walking deeper into whatever trap this was, but she didn't have much of a choice. "Piya!" She called out, her voice straining from being so loud and angry after so many years of silence, "Tok! Get out here! Do something so I can find you!"