Buried In Thorns

HER3

Hunching my shoulders down a bit, I tilted my head to the side to scan the rowdy crowd that filled the bar of the Inn.

Moving my spoon around in the slop that they called food, I went around trying to find interesting conversation, all the while not making eye contact with any of the drunks here. They had a terrible habit of taking that as consent to do anything they pleased, and not a lot of hero's visit where drunks roam.

"I tell you this, when I put my hands in the satchel, he ruffled up like a bird, uptight cunt that Nile." A slurred man spoke, swiping the back of his hand under his neck, before scratching his face with ragged nails. "Bribing him to lose a few papers-"

I tuned out and searched again.

"Another drink!"

"Keep your head down, we don't need attention-"

"This is disgusting."

"I done said I was sorry," A hushed voice whispered not at all apologetically, annoyance and strain, making the words easier to hear. "but instead of yelling at me, why not speak to yer sister about how she came onto me."

A sniffle, spoon scrapping again the bottom of the plate.

"A-Again, you keep saying it's her fault, and if it's not her, it's some other woman's fault-"

"All women come onto me, but I stay with you. Aren't you lucky-" I made a face and tried to tune out, catching a bit more of that conversation then I wanted to, but annoyance not letting me leave it be as quick as I'd wished.

There weren't many good things going on, nothing that stirred the locals interest, which I could say was favorable to me. However, it also made it nearly impossible to find an opening. Pushing the plate aside, I grabbed my sack and discretely made my way out towards the front door. No one paid any mind to the boy dressed in rags and a dirty hood.

Cool air fanned all around me as soon as I stepped out of the building, as well as fresh air that didn't reek of alcohol and unwashed bodies, with the occasional scent of stale food.

Walking down the bustling street, I made sure not to bump into the women as they did the same, eyeing me with caution and distrust. I preferred not to have a shrieking maiden afraid of a street thief. Looking both ways, I crossed the street, weaving in between carts and wagons until I made my way down a dimly lit ally. There was still enough skylight to make wandering about safe, but I still looked over my shoulders every now and then.

Coming out of the ally, I looked both left and right, trying to decided which path to take. To my right, I could see the busking port district, merchandise heading to and from. On my left, further than the eye could make out gigantic trees loomed above mountain ways, birds diving down into the forest. Before me, I continued to travel East, then I would make it to Covewell, which in itself was not a terrible idea, but I would be too close to home. Making money there was easier than looking for a job as I was now, but the risk of being recognized by someone, despite all these years, was not worth it.

I looked right once more and stared. If I closed my eyes and focused, I would surely be able to catch a whiff of the ocean coming from off of a wagon or even sea products. I had never been to Verenai before. It wouldn't hurt to learn the distance between here and there. If I was lucky, I wouldn't need to take a boat and could travel by nights cover as long as the trip didn't last more than a week, but the sea was tricky thing. There weren't many places to rest or land.

"Verenai Island, huh." Adjusting my sack, I turned and made my way up the street in the direction of the ports.

By wagon, it would have been a days ride, two at most, but walking came with better opportunities and less coins spent. I paced myself, making sure not to look aimless or hurried. I filled my bag with fruits and bread as I passed markets and asked a couple questions, which is how I learned that the fastest trip to Verenai had taken a little over a month. The news disappointed me but didn't derail me much. Still moving onward, I began to think of new ways to find self passage on a boat. Being a crew member wouldn't work, I'd had many employments, but sea work wasn't one of them. Buying passage way as a stowaway in a merchants ship was less likely as a woman.