Qeya River The gentle ones can't handle me, the rough ones despise me

Sadey imagined her feelings and her want for peace and hope were foolish really. Think about it, could she really achieve such things. She was a wild woman with a pretty face. There was bound to be an end for her, and not a pretty one. She would die as she lived hard and cold.

She snorted. Not an invalid. I'll walk with you and you can catch me if I fall, how about that?

She stood and slowly began a slow limp towards whereever he was pointing. The river as it were. She'd find out if she could make it, she probably would on spite alone.