Don looked up as he heard the door open, expecting to see Mila. When he saw the steward instead his face turned from a gentle smile to a worried frown. He stood up immediately, knowing something was wrong. He came out from behind the desk, meeting the steward in the middle of the room. “Where’s Mila?” He asked, unable to conceal the concern in his voice. “Sir she… isn’t in her room. But I have no idea where she is” the steward replied, lowering his head. He feared reprisal for failing, but when he dared look back up, Don was looking over his shoulder back towards the door.<br/><br/>“Make sure things are business as usual around here” Don ordered as he walked out of the study. “I’ll look for her myself.” He didn’t want there to be a commotion surrounding Mila on her second day here. That would only earn her even more stares. He retrieved a heavy coat from the rack by the door. He had heard the rumble of thunder, and knew a storm was on its way. He opened the door to the outside and struck out to find her. He suspected she was outside somewhere, based on how tense she had been indoors.<br/><br/>From what he remembered of her home village, there was a nearby forest. Perhaps that was where she had headed towards, something familiar. But she had no way to see the trees from far away, so she’d have run into them purely by luck. His mind raced, trying to analyze where she might have gone in the same way he took an impartial look at the finances of the region. Unfortunately this meant that he was constantly thinking of some better idea of where she might have gone, making him turn around every couple of feet and head in a different direction. Finally he stopped, closing his eyes. This was getting him nowhere closer to finding her. As he sat there trying to calm himself he noticed something, warmth.<br/><br/>For the first time in what seemed like forever he actually felt and paid attention to the warmth of the sun. He turned instinctively towards it, opening his eyes. It was intuition this time, not cold calculating decision making. He started to run; in the direction the sun led him, towards the trees. As if to signal that his choice was final, the clouds closed in, blocking off the warmth and starting to dump their wet innards across the ground. Despite the rain, he ran onwards, not caring that he was drenched in a matter of seconds. He had to find Mila.