She tried to find her little corners of the world when she could. Currently, Sicarra sat near a pond on a rock in Ruddymore. Broken ruins stood across the water. Ruins she liked them. Old, broken, ruins. Looking upon them made her feel safe. Deep down the woman was a romantic at heart. She never had the chance to show it in Dunland. She wouldn't let her friends know that. Some things were non-negotiable, too sacred, too private. She is reminded of the 'scared doe-eyed' girl she began as. Jumping at every shadow, expecting every single person she met, to mean her harm. Some people were good, other people, were bad. But is it really as black and white as that? Why did she trust so easily before? Desperation. It made individuals hungry, it made them forget who they are. And yet, she's been accepted, by Emma, by Ryheric and so many others.
Why did she still feel lost? Would she always feel lost? She no longer jumped at the shadows in her wake. But she had no words. Not right now. A sigh escapes her lungs and she imagines her grandmother sitting next to her. The only woman that believed that she had a meaningful future ahead of her. Sicarra missed Cemo. As firm and blunt as she was. She taught Sicarra to stand on her feet even when it was hard. In her eyes Cemo is as all grandmothers should be. Wise, firm in their ways, but loving and unafraid to pass such affection onto the younger generations. "What do I do now Nana?" She speaks where none can hear her.
