Isabella7Storm5
“You are what you dare”
To her grave disadvantage, the kitchen was not empty. Tay put her head down, and eased through the door.
"What's this, lass?" The voice was of a woman, and Tay's head rose with immediate interest. "Stews are on at half eight." She bustled forward, wiry hair shining with sweat as she gave quick orders to the two other cooks before coming to the door. "What's it your wanting?"
"Water." She said.
"Mm. The fresh kind?"
"Ideally."
The woman cocked her head and wiped a hand across her red, blotchy cheeks. "What for?"
"An injury."
"An injury," the woman echoed, eyes flicking across Tay's profile, "well. I haven't fresh water to waste." She pulled away and waddled to the nearest cupboard, retrieving a flask. "You should see the surgeon."
"I would not bother him."
"It's his job, lass," the woman turned back to her, and offered the metallic bottle. "Bring that back when you're finished."
Tay took the flask. "Thank you."
"Yes, yes," she turned away and hobbled further into the galley. "There's a surgeon on this ship for a reason, dearie,"
Tay slipped back through the door, and stole through the hall on very painful feet. When she arrived to her room, she shut the door, and slid down it's frame, biting her teeth at the burn.
She did not want to clean this. She did not want to be here. While she still had time, she needed to escape.
She began unlacing her boots.
Tonight. Tonight she'd escape.
Her skin shouted protest as the first boot was pulled away.
She would slip away quite unnoticed. Her memory of the main deck was poor, but she could add to it this afternoon.
The other boot was tugged free, and she leaned forward, hissing.
And once she knew her route, escape would be so simple.
Where would she go from there?
Away. She feared Vhanya's brilliance. The potential threat she posed, even on land.
The stockings where torn and crusted with blood. She began to peel the first away.
The tavern may offer sanctuary. There were many allies there, and many enemies, too. Her face was plastered about town. She needed to get out.
The stocking pulled open sores, and she squirmed.
To be rid of this ship- the pinnacle of her desire. She did not deem it a difficult task. The main deck would require a fair bit of scouting, but already her mind could concoct a variety of escape routes.
Fresh blood spilled to the floor, and she pushed the folds of her dress into the planks.
Hope warred in her chest.
She would not let dread consume her.
She would be free this night.
