<div class="floatright">(http://www.flicksandbits.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/centurion-olga.jpg)</div><br/>Sorcha was afraid, not for her life but for her lands and her people, and for all that she knew. Of course she did not want to die, but her main reason for not searching now death was the visions she had seen. Her people needed aid so rather she needed to find escape and aid. Otherwise she would have bled herself upon the land and let the spirits do their work. It seemed though they had other work for her, the spirits needed her here for now….for she needed to kill the monster and take its heads.<br/><br/>However this cage was vile and there had to be a way out. Bashing it was not working in fact it had hurt her shoulder rather a lot but at least Sorcha was able to put in back into place, as she had before. However it left more bruising and the purple was turning darker and it hurt.<br/><br/>The stones did not work on the metal lock so she used them on the wood making patterns there, trying hard to call the spirits as her empty belly churned and swirled just as the patterns she made. Both the stench and that which Sorcha had imbibed finally culminated and she vomited, the pict couched and spluttered her head still filled with dreams of horror.<br/><br/>“Water…” she said with a head not wholly there ,in Latin… or at least she tried  then added ”Out…” The stench of her vomit and the pigs was as in her dream but worse as it was real these people were surely barbarians. She struggled hard with the words but did finally manage them, she found them somewhere in her mind. However would grass eyes understand?<br/>