<div style="text-indent:1em;">Anareecia couldn't believe her luck. She had asked a caravan driver about the town beyond the gate. He told her the town was called Aborline. He couldn't say whether or not she would find any work in the town. Reece was surprised enough that the driver would even speak with her. She was totally astonished when he offered her food and coin, just to accompany the caravan on a journey to Shoven. (Wherever that was)  Something about "strength in numbers" or some such thing.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The driver indicated that the trip should take six or seven days, and they were pulling out any minute. Reece graciously accepted the mans offer, giving the matter no thought whatsoever.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">As they traveled the first day, Reece reflected on the events of the last- How many days? Reality was starting to set in. She was now a fugitive. Her husband-to-be was... gone forever. She would probably never know why. Several times that day her eyes welled up with tears, but she did her best to keep her grief to herself. No sense giving the others a show of weakness.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The few wild animals they encountered along the way provided her with more conversation than the people of the caravan. This suited Reece just fine, since lately most of her attempts at conversation were met with hostility, or ignored altogether. She had heard that elves were shunned outside of Vironur, and now she was getting first hand experience of it. Again, this suited her fine. What would be the point of striking up a friendship with any of these folks anyway? Everyone will just go there separate ways at journeys end.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The first evening, after a decent meal, Reece wandered from the camp. She found a large creek, and took full advantage of it. Far enough from the others for a little privacy, yet close enough to hear a scream, she disrobed on the sandy tree lined creek bank. She rinsed her clothing out as best she could, then hung them on a tree limb to dry a bit while she bathed in the creek. Sitting on the stone floor in two feet of water, she leaned back and rinsed her long sand-brown hair in the cool clear water. She then scrubbed her entire body with a cloth.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">After the refreshing dip in the creek, she put her damp clothes back on, returned to the camp, and sat near a fire to get dried. She then found a soft spot, away from the others,  on which to lay down. With her horse tied to a nearby tree, she lay on the ground and softly cried herself to sleep. The loss of her dear Athian finally hit home.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The second day was as eventless as the first. But the quasi-bath, clean(er) clothes and a good night sleep made her feel a bit better this day. Her dignity was starting to return. As she rode the walking horse, enjoying the countryside, she wondered what kind of life lay ahead for her, in Shoven.</div>