Nimue stood quietly as Maric examined her. She knew when he found the bruise from the pinch by the knitting of his brows and the thunderous look on his face. Putting her small hand on his muscular arm, Nimue said softly,<br/><br/>"Let it go. I would just like to put as much distance between us and the village as possible. This is why the Lady insists on us staying on the Tor. Avalon is protected by the lake and the forbidding temple. Of course the old legends of people disappearing who come to us in hatred doesn't hurt either."<br/><br/>The priest was still huffing and puffing around but not coming close enough for Maric to lay hands on him again. The old cleric was holding the cross on his rosary like he was warding off demons when he looked their way.<br/><br/>"I am afraid your station as a paladin might be jeopardized for being associated with me. Escort me as far as the treeline and then yell at me to never come back. I will go back to the Tor. Perhaps the guardian will see and send Layla back for me. I would not ruin your life. If you show distaste for me in front of the people, you will save face. The priest looks like he would have  you excommunicated. Your holy orders mean much to you. Your honor is who you are. Meeting me was a mistake for you."<br/><br/>She slipped from his grasp and turned to go. Suddenly she was pelted with filth, mud and rotting vegetables.<br/><br/>"Go back to your tower of infamy, witch," shouted a faceless man in the crowd.<br/><br/>and thus it began.