Captivity

Dim light. Voices. Flame crackling. Heat on her face. Odd echo in whatever room she was in. Dru’s eyes were not yet open, but she could feel herself in some sort of chair. She opened her eyes, lifting her head. Three men. Why did two of them seem somewhat familiar? Where was she? Her head ached. Her side throbbed. She barely made out what they said…but the one she did not recognize was kneeling before her chair. Why was he messing with her wrists? Chains.

The cold air slammed through her lungs as she ran, and her blood seeped through her fingers as they clamped over the nasty-looking slash on her side…but she hardly noticed this. She had escaped! It was a miracle, and she truly did not recall how she managed such a feat. Nor did she care. She was running through the fields of Bree-land. Running a free woman.

I awoke again, having cried myself to sleep.  The man had said the he'd sent a ransom note, before he left me.  But the amount he demanded ... it was impossibly high, I thought.  There would be no way that my ... maybe Zan.  But what if she couldn't? What then? Would he simply discard of me, where no one would find me? Or worse ... would he leave me here to die?  Not knowing what would happen, I stood up, noting that it was daylight again.  I grabbed the small rock I had managed to find, and went to the window to begin working on the knothole.

It's getting dark, as night falls.  I can barely see my own hand.  All I can do is sit and think. I close my eyes,  forcing my thoughts into an organized pattern.  

Thoughts of my friends came to me ... of Ana and Rast; of Rhia, Cait, and Kom. I focused on each of them in turn, as I realized how much I truly missed them.  Seeing each of them in  mind, I felt a little less alone despite my isolation.

I awoke again, I'm not sure how much time has passed since I slept.  The light coming through the slats seems different, weaker now.  I make my way to my feet, carefully working my way to the windows.

(written on a of parchment, with what appears to be a bit of coal. )

I awoke on a hard bedroll, my head pounding,  my throat dry and parched. I have no clue how long I've been out, nor how I got here.   Or even where here is.  

Sitting up, I realized my hands and feet were bound. Try as I might,  I can't free my hands, though after a struggle I was finally able to free my ankles from the ropes binding them. Satisfied with that, for the moment, I looked around my prison.