Deepwood Weald I'll unwrap my fingers, free my foot and run away

erk. she knew very well her response was terribly dull, and something had her unwilling to make this awkward, unwilling to somehow let down the sun-kissed woman with terrible conversation. but she wanted even less to speak of the war and the event preceding it, and so she allowed the break to occur. "a couple days journey - I had to get away for a bit. didn't mean to get this far, really, but-" a shrug, a brief flash of panic. patricide, kin-slayer; the more time passed, the more deeply she sunk into the reality of what she'd done. best not think of it, best not dwell on it, and yet - "where is your pack, exactly?"