Daphne

Days had passed since tidying of the brigand encampment had begun. Daphne worked at whatever pace she felt like keeping, but it was still nice to have something to do beyond pacing her little cabin with her mind churning over her predicament.

"Missus Brushwood?"

There was no answer from within the cabin.

(OOC: I read this while listening to this music piece, and as long as you read it somewhat slowly, it works beautifully. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5zFnGRaO0E )

The night passed quickly for Dru. She managed to catch some sleep...or rather, that thin veil of sleep one has when their ears are searching for the slightest anomaly.

The day of a girl's wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

When the day came, the sky was a deep blue with only a few puffy white clouds scattered here and there. The birds were singing merrily, the weather was warm with a gentle breeze and nothing was going wrong.

Some time had passed since her letter was delivered. Daphne did not know what she hoped for with that effort. She knew that she had been trying to tell Furley she hadn't abandoned him, but what did she expect him to do with that knowledge?

They had made some headway in finding at least some of the larger band of brigands. Dru had been hoping to get one to talk, preferably with a bribe. But she would not shy from harder methods, either.

The days were going by quickly, yet taking an eternity to pass. Daph had lost the ability to recall just how long she'd been a captive by now. She reckoned it was just as well, since remembering would likely only serve to depress her.

The winds brought scent of spring, as though attempting to cheer all hearts it touched. Birds began to sing again, in that cautious manner they did whenever winter seemed to dwindle.

Normally this would bring a brightness to Daphne's soul and make her slightly less prone to scowling. It was not so, this time.

"Excuse me, what?!" Daphne watched as the wine she'd been drinking dripped down Harold's face. She worked very hard not to mention that the wine was his colour, as he wiped it off in annoyance.