Jenn laid her spoon on the table with a quiet clink as the metal clipped the edge of the ceramic plate. Twisting in her seat, she looked over her shoulder toward the window and narrowed her eyes to better see the source of the interruption through the dim evening light. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as the tapping and scratching continued. She rolled her eyes whilst pushing herself up in order to walk across the intervening space.
Throwing the shutters open wide, she quickly stepped back out of the way just in time to avoid receiving a battering. In a flurry of feathers and squawks, the hawk that had so rudely interrupted her meal made his way over to the table, his talons digging furrows into the highly polished surface. Warily making her way closer, she reached out a hand to try taking the message from the tube on his leg, but quickly snatched it away again as the thing tried to bite her fingers.
She hated that dratted bird with a passion. Aelaric it was called, the pet of Ystcild and the way in which the woman kept in touch over the movements of her quarry. Useful it might be, and well loved by its mistress, but the feathered little creep was a nasty piece of work in need of a good neck-wringing.
Jenn darted her hand foward again, narrowly avoiding having her hand pecked as she grabbed the small bone tube and tugged it free. Shooting the winged rat a glare, she popped the top off the tube and turned away. A moment later saw her unfurling the small piece of parchment between her fingers.
Behind her, Aelaric set about stealing the meat from her plate but she paid no mind to that as she read the small, cramped writing. A grin made its slow way across her lips as she reached the bottom of the page and once more began from the beginning to be certain that she had not missed anything of importance in the missive.
Perfect, she thought. They're on the run.
The longer they stayed away from Bree, the better. It gave her ample time to tighten her grip on her game pieces and solidify the plans for their return. Oh, she would probably send Seaver out after them once or twice more after his hair grew back in, just to prove a point, but for now they could sit back at their ease and wait.
Too much too soon could ruin the game entirely and the boy was still in need of careful watching. The son of her husband or not, Jenn had no qualms about ordering his execution should he become a hinderance to her plans. His stark resemblance to Siward made him useful for the time being, but plans could be changed and the girl broken in myriad other ways if it came to it. This was simply the most poetically pleasing one.
She moved across to the side cabinet, pulling open a drawer to retrieve a thin stick of charcoal and a piece of parchment. Carefuly tearing a thin strip from the paper, she laid the rest aside before leaning over to write her instructions in tiny, florid letters. Rollling the strip tightly once finished, she carefuly threaded it back into the bone tube and capped the top of it once more before turning back to the evil-eyed stare of the overgrown parrot.
Getting the tube off the thing was always less of a dangerous chore than getting it back on again. She narrowed her eyes, meeting its glassy gaze with her own whilst carefuly stalking toward it. It blinked slowly, tilting its head to the side and opening its beak to let out something between a caw and a hiss. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she lunged for it...
