Moonspear As if you knew who I am, as if you knew my name

The man that wove his way through a thinning swath of trees was not Dacio. Raleska watched his approach in stuffy silence, her gaze sulky as it traced his casual and yet careful approach.

Was that what her little action in the bush had been to Dacio? A surge of frustration and hurt rose bitterly to her throat - what, he had hit and quit it, and now he couldn't even give her the decency of meeting her face to face? Did he know then? Was she just another of the faceless many, a one-and-done quick spin, easily put to the back of his mind like all the others?

Stupid, stupid girl. Raleska knew that voice -- that cold assurance, that dry huskiness. No, you're dead -- she closed her eyes and waited for the brute between the trees to meet her.

When he spoke, Raleska mistook his observation as admission he knew why she was here -- that he knew about her. She ignored the pleasantries, feeling her chin tense. "Where is he?" She looked behind Dirge as if expecting Dacio would be there cowering in the bushes, unable to look her in the face after what he had done to her.