Another inn, another town in the North, this was a pattern for Sicarra. It did not bother her all that much. There are certainly worse places to be. And Herne was different somehow.
There was something she could not quite place. This made her feel quite alert and a little unsettled. It was one reason she was glad that Tars arranged work for her at the Crossway house. The 'busy bee' persona was something she developed the moment Butterbur took pity on her in Bree. That first time she arrived at his inn. Who knew that this silent Dunlending would be able to charm others without even saying a word. At present the inn is lifeless the front door had not opened for several hours Most days it was Ryheric and company, that were her customers. Alas everyone else was on a hunting trip. She had no interest in this activity, fearing what may happen if she got her hands on a bow. Especially after the confession she gave Tars the night before.
There was still so much she had yet to understand, about herself, about the world around her. Sicarra anxiously chewed on her lip as she sat inside the empty inn. When it was crowded and everyone had food. It was so much better, so much easier to hide from herself. However, she knew that courage does exist within her. She would not be where she is today, if that were the case. 'Does anyone see me?' 'But eyes are terrible things. They are like mirrors, I cannot stare at people as they stare at me.' These were the thoughts that invaded her peace. Stagnancy was the bane of her existence but without rest there can be no peace. No healthy state of mind.
