Niamh bit her lip and used the sting as a distraction from the moisture threatening to well up in her eyes.  Abandoned and rejected completely for the second time in her young life, Niamh felt she was teetering on the brink of a chasm.  Obviously everyone expected her to fall into that chasm, but mutinously the girl was determined to prove them and the voices she now occasionally heard whispering in her head, wrong.<br/><br/>Those voices...  She linked them to something she'd once read about monsters called 'Sirens', who with their sweet voices used to lure sailors to their doom.  Niamh remembered at the time she'd smiled and thought the sailors must've been idiots to fall for that, not understanding how they could've believed the monsters sweetly sung promises.  She now offered a silent apology to those literary figures.  When offered a chance of pleasure...  When offered the chance to simply not be alone anymore, it was a lot harder than she'd dreamt to resist despite the evidence of one's senses.<br/><br/>Niamh's hair whipped her face with stinging force, caught in a particularly violent gust of wind that buffeted her.  She planted her feet more solidly, turned to face the wind and felt around in her belt pouches for the map she'd...  acquired... from the library before leaving.  If she was to find the Sorcerer's home, she wanted to do it as quickly as possible, before night fell.