Esmee had never slept so well as she had done for the past two weeks. A warm bed and food was all she needed to be happy. Well, it kept her happy for a while at least. At first, the 22-year-old didn't think much about her destination - Sanctuary Isles. The flyers seemed legit and there were enough people on the ship to feel comforted that she wasn't walking into the unknown alone. The woman was happy to have new surroundings and warmth.<br/><br/>But over the course of her journey time, she'd heard quiet whispers. Men and women who were beginning to doubt the legitimacy of this promised retreat. Sure, it was strange that people were allowed to board the ship with weapons galore. She was just happy she could keep her knife close to her - just in case.<br/><br/>She had woken up early on the morning of their arrival, the feeling of anxiety clutching onto her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off and well, it was too late to do anything about it now. By now, the girl was used to her impulsive behaviour getting her into trouble, but this was different. She was trapped. The only way to escape would be to swim and that wouldn't bode well for her.<br/><br/>Esmee wasn't surprised when the fight broke out. To be honest, tensions seemed to be rising over the past few days. She was just glad that she wasn't involved in the scrap. Who knew what would happen to the guilty parties now? The woman watched over the whole incident from the crowd, her eyes fluttering round to look at the other peoples reactions as the guards carried away the fighters. She caught sight of a man clasping at his gun whilst the woman shouted. The girl smirked, stepping quietly over to him.<br/><br/>"Careful. You'll be next." She muttered to him, cautious of listening ears. "Then it's no special resort for you." She hummed, eyes rolling over the buildings that were becoming clearer with every second that passed.