Survival

2 1/2 Years Earlier

 Spiders. 

     I hate them. Foul eight legged creatures that are better hiding in their caves than out in the light. I found myself in the north of the Trollshaws when I stumbled into a nest of them. Skittering on the valley floor, I watched them keep their nests clean of bones and debris from their last unsavory meals. Chittering amongst themselves assaulted my ears to the point they could bleed. Of course that did not stop me, but this was one of those days that came close to. 

Daerundros sighed as she picked up her sword from the corner of her room. Taking a rather good look about her, she smiled warily as she began tidying the bed, cleaning up messes, and stuffing unneeded things to drawers, chests... it would be a long day. Soon enough, flowers were in their vases, vases on the tables, pots and kettles back in their proper places, drawers, chests, and wardrobes all sealed shut, and every mess that had been lying somewhere was tidied up. Not one single speck of dirt could be found on Daerundros' silk bed.