As soon as Seryn regained enough strength to walk, she had forced her body to wait atop the hill overlooking the village, waiting for the return of the Outsiders she had entrusted her quest to. The young cat-eared man had assured her that everything would be fine and that he would help her.
She had sent a detachment of guards to await for him and his companions outside of the entrance and these brave warriors had left knowing they may never return to the place they called home
The early morning sun had greeted her with soft warmth, its light a promise she desperately wanted to believe in. She had stood tall then, the crown of flowers placed carefully upon her head by the village children rustling gently in the breeze. Time passed slowly. The sun climbed higher. Her legs ached, her muscles throbbed, and her feet, still tender from weeks of captivity, burned with each minute she remained standing.
But she did not sit.
She could not.
