Alethea has always been awkward - eccentric, even. On a typical day she spends her time cloistered inside a tiny apartment hiding from the world she doesn't really understand. When her therapist encourages her to push herself outside her comfort zon...
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I winced as I landed flat on my back, again, and felt a rock dig painfully into my hip.
"We're never going to survive against Moroi if you can't learn to defend yourself," Roran complained.
"I'm trying, okay?" I snapped and pushed my matted hair out of my eyes. "Excuse me for not being able to immediately pick up combat skills that you have had 500 years to perfect!"
He only sighed in response and held out a hand to help me up off the ground. I was momentarily transfixed by the way his muscles flexed, but forced myself to look away. Our relationship was already awkward enough without adding any more tension.
"You have the moves down and it's obvious you have been listening to what I taught you, but your lack of energy is slowing you down. I don't know how you will fight Moroi like this. The longer you go without blood, the weaker you will be," he explained.
I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and bit my lip. After a moment's consideration I responded, "I'm not drinking blood. I can't. I'd rather die."
Roran shook his head and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I won't let that happen. But I do think we should alter the plan with Moroi so that you won't be doing any fighting."
I nodded and shrugged. "You're the one who knows him best. I'll leave it up to you."
"I think we should focus on a few defensive strategies for you, just in case though."
"Aw, Roran, can't we take a teeny, tiny break? Please?" I begged, trying to use puppy eyes to get my way.
He rolled his eyes, but conceded. "Fine. It's not like we're making any progress anyway."
I grinned happily and rushed over to soak my aching feet in the water at the front of the cave. What I really wanted (and needed, desperately) was a bath. I smelled like the inside of a garbage truck and looked like I had been run over by one.
"Hey, Roran?" I began, unsure of the best way to ask for what I wanted.
"Yeah?"
"Um, I'm not sure if you've noticed but I kind of smell. Like, pretty bad."
He smirked. "I've noticed."
I glared at him in response. "Gee thanks. Anyway, I was wondering is there anywhere I could bathe? I mean - without getting killed?"
"Sure," he said, handing me a rather large knife. "Wash up right outside. The clothes I found for you while you were gone are lying next to the hammock. They aren't spotless, but they're cleaner than what you have on."
Upon inspection, I determined they were very close to my size, if a little bit baggy. The pants had a few stains and there was a tear in one of the sweater sleeves, but Roran was right: compared to what I was wearing these were practically couture.
