Sarah
Arin Cragton
The fucking doctor's office

Arin's eyes fluttered. "Where... Where am I?" He said, groaning as ice-hot pain raced up his arms. He carefully picked his hands up and glanced at them, before groaning again as he noticed the deep gashes that now shot pain through his arms. 

He blinked again as he tried to gain his surroundings. He glanced at the young woman beside him and forced a smile. "I'm... Fine. Really. I'm fine." He said, blood beginning to leak through the fabric that loosely held onto his hands. His grit his teeth together as the open wounds rubbed against the rough cloth. 

"Maybe not as fine as I think." He said, softly smiling again. "But nothing I can't get through, though I know I can't use my hands to do much." He said, looking at Marsila.
Lawrence
Ivagneth Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Ivagneth slowly rose from her seat. How typical it was that her and Anna's solemn agreement was about to fall apart; who knew her lady's fate now but the whispering frost? Part of her felt a little better, however, to know that perhaps a strong accord could be reached to the satisfaction of everyone. 

There was a chance of there being less uncertainty, less peril, and she decided to seize it. Even it would mean awkwardness and dull anguish aplenty. At this point, she was no stranger to those sufferances.

"I shall fetch her, Your Majesty," She said with a hint of unsurety in her voice. Though Adelhayd once again tried to dissuade her discreetly, she was soon away from her parents once more. She threw a glance at Mikhail as she walked out and immediately cursed herself for it. She was too starstruck from meeting Heath, too occupied with thoughts of warmer, more exotic lands, and their handsome princes. And how could she ponder boys now? Symon had only been dead for—

She stopped short of the door, suddenly clutching her chest. A chilling shiver crept up her body, filling her chest with a horrible, mournful sting. Symon was dead. Should that not have been hanging over her constantly? She felt numb. She'd been feeling numb since they were first imprisoned in their own home. Why the *Fuck* Hadn't Father told her?

Ivagneth shook her head. There was no time to think of any of that now. There was no talking to Father yet. There would never again be time to talk to Symon. Perhaps Sibyl was gone or doomed too—but Anna was still alive, and there was still a chance to save the Plains.

She hurried down the stairs and quickly discovered that she had no idea where Anna had gone. She thought she heard the faint noise of footsteps down this and that hallway, and wandered in deep frustration for too long a while. Ivagneth went hunting for a servant instead, and from there it was a laborious "Ask-her-ask-him" Until she was directed to the right room.

She gently knocked on the door, her brow heavy on her dolorous eyes. "Anna? Anna, we need to go back. Gregor's threatening to arrest you."
John
**Kirk Pinewood
Throne Room**

Kirk began to sweat more than he had in years. He expected the more level heads at the council to dissuade Lucrezia's musings, but they had only encouraged them. His stomach had tightened, and it wasn't from the bone broth. Running from a giant in a cursed forest hadn't been this terrifying. He felt like he couldn't hold onto any breath. Kirk couldn't look anyone in the eye, including Dennon, whose mouth hung open in shock.