Galla remains at the door of the chamber, gazing in it, her lips parted, her mouth wide. It reminded her of Myrine, of the Amazons, of their many travels. It felt like home within that cold, unfamiliar place. She stepped inside and followed her sister to the large mound of skins. She kneeled before Myrine, laying her head on her knees, ignoring the great glass of wine. "Sister, how I have cried for you...you cannot imagine." She raised her eyes to Myrine, and they are filled with tears once again. "I am weak, Myrine, I have proved very weak. I have suffered along the way, but I managed to keep my dignity, my honour. Today I have lost both. And I have become a slave."<br/><br/>She weeps on her mentor's knees, her hand closing over Myrine's knee. "Myrine..." She whispers between sobs, "could we not run now? They would never know. We would be free. Far away..."