The silence of the forest was unsettling. The birds and creatures had yet to return to the scorched parts of the forest. The only sound was the wind blowing through the trees, and yet even that sounded lifeless and hollow. Roswitha wasn’t sure why she was spending so much time wandering this skeleton of a forest, but it was better than wandering through the remains of the town. Miwor just reminded her of things that she’d honestly rather forget. If she dwelled upon it for too long she could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her again, burning like acid in her chest. She wanted to hold someone accountable, to make someone pay for all the death and destruction. For what had happened to Birgir. She sighed, leaning against a tree as she massaged her stiff leg, a permanent reminder of her past stupidity. It was that kind of poisonous anger that drove her to attack her father in the first place and seek solace with the Wardens. If she had just kept her temper in check, then Birgir never would have...
Roswitha looked up with a jolt, the sound of footsteps reaching her sensitive ears and breaking her out of her condemnatory thoughts. She tensed, instantly on edge. Terrible tragedies like this brought out the best in people. The townsfolk and Wardens were all working together to fix the town and heal its inhabitants. But Roswitha had traveled enough in her lifetime to know that many people took advantage of tragedies like this. Even though the footsteps sounded light, Roswitha knew better than to assume they belonged to someone harmless. Especially when she didn’t have Birgir or her bow with her. She slowly slid down the tree, grabbing a stone before standing back up to her full height.
elinathewitch
