Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald , the Witherlands
The Pines of Mourn

Lumikki woke to the sound of his stomach rumbling, rolled over and noticed him laying there, she studied his clothes... They were thin and worn. For some reason she felt this feeling of needing to help... Something that forced her to get up, take one of the sheep skins, walk over and drape it on top of him. She sent Lyla out to kill something, sat down beside him, hoping he wouldn't wake. *How demeaning* She thought *For him to wake... As I was helping..* After a few minutes the wolf returned with a white rabbit in her chomps. "Bueno, puella..." Lumikki whispered. As she took the rabbit from her mouth, she unsheathed a small skinning knife from her lower leg. She stuck the rabbit with the blade and began to skin it. She'd toss the guts to the wolf and Lyla nearly swallowed them whole. Lumikki then stood up and walked out into the snow, a chill ran down her spine. She knelt doen and picked up a stick , walked back in, grabbing the skinned rabbit and stabbing the stick from its back end and through the mouth.

She sat there a while... The rabbit slowly roasting on the fire. *Please don't wake up..* The sent of the freshly cooked rabbit, was filling the cave. *Shit... Do not wake up...* She tried waving the smoke away, but the wind from outside only blew it back. Lumi took the rabbit off the stick, protected from the heat with her gloves, and pulled the meat off the rabbit, stuffing some in her pouches and pulling out a small square of fabric. She then wrapped some of the tender, warm, meat in it and laid it gently on the lap of the jester. Walking back over the other sheep skin, she laid back down as lyla circled up again, and they both fell asleep. *Don't wake up...*
Rebeca
Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands
Iron Plains/ Pines

Nirvana just remembered the brawl that was going to happen, but she knew she had to get there soon. She has enough energy to keep going almost throughout the night, so she starts heading west. 
*West, West, West.* She thought. *I shouldnt be too far*. But, she underestimated the length of the trip. 
Nirvana turns and twists into the thicket and tries to head straight west, but veers south and back randomly. 
She was *Starving* All the food she can find is either hibernating or dead* She saw a small white fox, dead in its tracks from hypothermia. She winced, but didnt stop herself. She resumed her journey, scouting for anything, even a mouse if she could.
Hassan
General Wendy Margir
House Margir, The Witherlands

"Little else is known about the origin of this theory, besides the innate fear humanity harbors for the original. Living in an existence utterly dwarfed by the conquests of old, we soothe ourselves by creating replicas of history, ones that we feel we can manage. Fear of the original morphs into idolatry of the replica, and—"

_Knock, knock._

Wendy Margir paused in her reading, looking up from the time-weathered pages of the novel she'd been reciting for her little sister, Caroline. The blind girl, too, lifted her chin slightly, her head facing in the direction of the door. She was sitting up against a fluffed pair of pillows, tucked in a pale blue nightgown underneath her covers. Her bright red hair fell in little ringlets about her face, still damp from her nighttime bath. 

"Come in," Wendy said, her voice ringing with a more authoritative tone unfit for reading a girl to sleep. She was sitting in a wooden chair at Caroline's bedside, still clad in her armor from the successful scouting mission earlier that day. 

At the general's beckoning, a pair of men opened the door and stepped into the room, donned in the maroon and gold colors of House Margir. They seemed anxious, almost. But not for themselves.

"General," One said, bowing his head slightly as he addressed Wendy. "The straggler from Lord Vivayn's rebels has finally come to. He is ready for questioning."

At this, Wendy sighed and closed the book.

Caroline, hearing the dull thud of the book closing, turned her head to face her sister. Her eyes always remained closed, but she felt it was at least courteous to give as much attention as she could to those who were kind enough to do so for her.

"Will that be all for the night, then?" Caroline asked. She always looked forward to this tradition. When she was younger, falling asleep had always been rather difficult. Nightmares had tormented her often. And so, Wendy had always volunteered to read Caroline bedtime stories to put the girl's mind at ease before drifting off to sleep. The stories had evolved from silly adventures to philosophical musings, but they still meant the same to her. And with Wendy's commitment to the army, Caroline had learned to savor these moments more and more, since they now came about only so often. 

"I am afraid so, sister. I wish we could continue, but there is always tomorrow," Wendy said, smiling and setting the book on the girl's nightstand. The woman's voice, once again, had changed quite quickly, considerably softer than before. She stood and cupped Caroline's cheek in her palm, giving the girl a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well. We can read more after tea in the morning."

Caroline smiled and nodded, listening to her older sister's deliberate gait across the room, the shuffle of the guards' feet, and the gentle closing of the door. Her nursemaid helped the girl settle into bed, and blew out the bunch of candles that kept the room lit.

————————————

Wendy strode down the long corridor of cells, flanked by the pair of guards who had called for her earlier. She had not discarded her armor entirely, but now wore her fur-collared cloak; the holding cells had always been rather cold. 

The damp area had not seen too many prisoners come and go since the war had slowed, but Wendy expected that to change, with time. Indeed, her palms seemed to itch as she stopped before the cell holding the man in question, the one who'd pledged loyalty to Lord Nathaniel Vivayn.

_Mistake,_ Wendy simply thought, her face set in a composed scowl as she looked down at the man. He sat on the bench hitched by chains to the wall of the cell, a chill evident in his bones as he shivered. He seemed a little worse for wear, having been stripped of his armor and left solely to his shirt and hose. 

He turned and looked the woman in the eyes, his breath seeming to catch in his throat as he did so. One of the soldiers unlocked the cell.

At this, Wendy smirked and lifted her hand to dismiss her escorts.

"Leave us," She ordered.

With a final salute, the soldiers turned on their heels and marched themselves out of the corridor, perhaps a bit too quickly. 

Wendy slowly entered, her hands tucked behind her back, as if prowling around a feeble mouse. She stopped in front of the man, tilting her head slightly as she merely observed him for a few moments.

And then, without so much as an introduction, the general lifted her leg and delivered a weighty kick to the man's jaw, hearing an audible crunch as he fell over to the ground, the bench swaying as he was so abruptly ejected from it. His hands were tied behind his back, so it was all he could do to simply squirm and groan in pain.

Wendy walked closer to where he was, lifting her foot again and gently settling it on the man's cheek, the same one she'd struck earlier. The man grunted, his breath quickening as he braced himself for whatever pain was coming.

A pain the general intentionally delayed.

"Do you want to know what I absolutely _loathe_ about men like you?" Wendy said, her voice calm and patronizing all at once. Her smirk deepened, satisfied as she began applying more pressure to his face with her foot. "You align yourself with some noble cause, as if that association alone somehow makes you noble. You realize your lack of any significant purpose or meaning, and try to create one on your own."

With this, Wendy suddenly applied more pressure to his face, twisting her toe back and forth for good measure, hearing his jaw fracture further as she pushed his head further into the ground. She gave a laugh at his cries, sweeping her cloak back and pressing her hands on her hips, her right hand resting on the sword attached to her belt.

"It's pathetic. To think you could go against the order of this world, to try and face a power you can not win. To align yourself with a pig, a weakling playing king. And where _is_ your king, hm?"

Wendy chuckled again, reaching down to grab the man by his collar. She lifted him up to her level, staring him in the eye. She raised a single brow, waiting for his response.

Breathing heavily, the prisoner simply stared at her for a few moments, his eyes, exhausted as they were, alive with enough anger and embarrassment to narrow as he spat into her face.

The general flinched slightly, feeling the wet saliva plaster itself on her cheek. Her smile faded. Her eyes, once composed, seem to focus intensely on him now, her pupils constricting. Even her breathing stopped.

And then, in one fluid movement, the woman hurled the man against the wall, before rushing to him and ramming her foot into his ribs, blow after blow becoming more forceful as she continued. She waited until she'd bruised him quite badly before lifting her leg and ramming her heel into his crotch, laughing as he howled in pain. 

Her hair had been strewn about rather well by now, her cloak hanging off of one shoulder. And still she laughed, twisting her foot and jamming it again and again into his groin. Her laughs lifted and swayed, echoing throughout the entire chamber of cells. They mixed eerily with his screams and bellows, a chilling cacophony that felt like music to the woman's ears.

"A miserable fool, you are! I tell you, there is not a soul in Marin who shall defy our Ice Lord and live to tell the tale. If you will not bow, I will shatter your bones until you have no choice!" Wendy said, continuing to beat and berate him with nothing short of glee. "Where is your king? Tell me, _where is he?"_

The night continued like this, until finally Wendy drew her sword and plunged it into the man's hand, chuckling with an almost feline growl as the man cried and begged for the pain to cease.
She threw her head back, drinking in the damp air like a cool vat of water. The general panted, leaning on the hilt of her sword, satisfaction having swept over her completely now. 

"Oh, men... The power you think you hold. You have no _idea_ just how much pleasure it brings me to take it away," Wendy muttered, sighing and looking down on the man once more. He was hardly responsive at this point, breathing in ragged breaths and feebly shaking on the ground.

Wendy sighed and yanked her sword from his palm, turning it and swiftly sheathing it once more. In the rapid movement, a spattering of the man's blood painted her cheek. 

"Ah, but ... That is neither here nor there," She said, standing up straight once more and tugging her cloak back onto her shoulder. She stood back to observe her handiwork, her face composing itself once again. She tilted her head, wondering how long this one would stay alive. "You began as nothing. That is how you shall end."

And with that, the woman exited the cell, leaving the door open. She ran a hand through her thick, ginger hair, a mane blending well with the fur around her cloak. There was no need to close the cell door. That man would not be moving for a while. If, at all.
Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald the Witherlands
The Pines of Morn

Lumikki shivered and rolled over to lyla who was already gone,she didn't think much of it, her eyes scanned the cave as she saw the Jester, same spot, *Had he... Died?* She got up and rolled her sheep skin, then lingered over to Jestah and poked him in the forehead. "Before the crack of dawn." She said, looking down as his lap she noticed the skin was still there as well as the meat from the rabbit that she had cooked. Lumikki took the skin from him, rolling it up, and left the food for him to eat. She strapped the skins to her back and whistled for Lyla. 

A few minutes had passed and Lumikki could then see a figure in the snow, coming towards them. Lyla came barreling to her, with the upmost energy, jumped up and tackled Lumikki to the floor. Lumi pet her for a bit, then struggled to push her off and get up. "We are wasting time, let's go" She then commanded the wolf to pave the path, and followed.
Rebeca
Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands
Pines of Morn / Iron Plains

Having walked for some time now, she was relieved when she could see light. She paused for a second, happy because there would be people that might now what theyre doing. She pushed harder through the snow, smiling out of joy. "Yes!" She whispered to herself. 

She was practically jumping at this point, making herself go faster. She tried different ways to run faster to save her energy. She tried Bear crawling, hopping, jumping with one leg then the other simultaneously. Her hopes couldnt be higher. Her hair pressed cold against her neck inside her hood, which eventually came off.