The People of the self-proclaimed Band of Fire were a friendly, perpetually happy lot. Over half of them were related by blood. The rest had joined along the road, and had quickly become part of the family. Every night, they were to be found dancing, singing, cooking, eating, laughing, and otherwise making merry. The children played their games by the fire, smacking stones around with sticks. Women sat weaving cloth and stringing beads, while men tanned skins into leather, chopped trees into logs, whittled beautiful sculptures of wood, and repaired the carts that would carry them on down the road.<br/><br/>As always, they kept their carts circled to form a defense from bandits and wild animals, corralling the horses, oxen, and goats using a ring of torches just outside the ring of wagons. It was a routine that they found comfortable. Smoke rose from several cook fires, dotting the area, adding color and dancing shadows to the scene. A great bonfire roared at the center of the camp. It was an extravagance they rarely indulged. It was viewed by some as a foolish waste of wood, while most simply enjoyed the fun. Sparks flew up into the air, then danced around the group, carried by a gentle breeze that brought with it a the scents of the trees around them. One could barely notice the smell of the woods over the tantalizing smell of cooking food.<br/><br/>As if to contrast this show of solidarity and companionship, a single figure sat removed from the group. She was the newcomer. The group were fond of her, and found her skills and knowledge useful, her humor enjoyable. As her new friends frolicked, she herself sat in motionless silence. She was barely visible in the shadows, leaning back against a rock. She sat with her back to the group so that the firelight lit the book in her lap. Her eyes, however, were not on the book nearly as often as they were on the surrounding forest. She constantly, frequently, and intently looked up to peer into the surrounding shadows.<br/><br/>"She's over there just reading away again..." one woman observed to her neighbor. Her tone was slightly confused, yet not unkind.<br/><br/>"She must have a pressing reason to be needing all that information she's getting from those books..." the second chuckled in a motherly way, "It is still rather odd that she doesn't join us here. She's perfectly willing to help in the work and share the burdens... and yet she chooses not to join in the fun. At the least, she would be able to see the book better if she sat closer to the fire."<br/><br/>"I noticed something funny today, now that you mention it. She's constantly watching the woods while we travel. She was scanning the tree line, almost like she was searching for something."<br/><br/>"Wonder what she's expecting to see... Does she expect attack? And now that I think of it... would that attack be against her or us?"<br/><br/>"Not a comforting thought, is it? I've been pondering those same questions all day. I see no reason to fully distrust her. She has shown no valid reason for us to be wary of her... but if its all the same, I'll keep an eye on her."<br/><br/>The two women nodded in agreement, then resumed their working and gossiping, moving on to new targets as often as they drank from their mugs. Off in the shadows outside the ring of merry-makers, the lone woman looked up from her book briefly once again, scanned the trees around her, and went back to reading.<br/><br/>Only a few minutes later, as her eyes had begun to grow weary of straining to read the words on the page, she had decided to give her studies a rest and simply observe the goings on of the group around her. These were good, kind, and loving people. She felt safe around them, and yet felt incredibly guilty that she was exposing them to her troubles merely by traveling with them. She was constantly afraid that the danger that followed her would catch on to her newest evasion. She was too often found as a single woman traveling alone. They wouldn't look for her among others. The ruse had worked-- she'd reached the capital city of the kingdom unharmed. She now sat camped with her new friends a short walk outside the city walls, comfortably established in the woods.<br/><br/>The traveling band planned to remain in the city for a few weeks, making a living entertaining the townsfolk with song and dance and story, selling wares, and gathering news. It was the perfect situation for a woman so desperately avoiding the danger that pursued her.<br/><br/>The breeze shifted then, and she found herself blinking rapidly to clear the sting of smoke from her eyes. She was so comfortable, and felt safe with these people. It was a feeling she'd not felt in years. She had become so accustomed to the constant fear that she found letting it go a difficult prospect. Even now as her eyelids began to droop, she fought it. She couldn't let down her guard. In an effort to remain alert and vigilant, she sat up higher against the rock, reducing her level of comfort to keep herself awake. The only effect that resulted from this was that her head soon began to bob along with her drooping eyelids. She drooped and sagged, only to jerk herself upright again several times. The slender, delicate hands in her lap finally lost their hold on the book. There was a soft thump as the book suddenly fell to the soft earth beside her, but she didn't wake enough to notice. Her chin finally settled onto her chest and she snored softly. Occasionally she twitched as her nerves refused to settle, but she dozed on.