Cureth - Pathway

	Pathway
	Cureth stumbled to the fountain and splashed the cool liquid to her parched lips, nearly fainting from exhaustion. She had left the horse where it collapsed a few miles from town and run the rest of the way. Fear of what she did had given her the strength to keep running, but the rush was now over. Her legs were battered from the hard gallop she had pushed the horse into and sore from the prolonged running. Her head screamed for her to stay alert. She must find a place to rest. The streets are not safe in a town like this. There could be cutthroats... or worse. The words meant nothing. She knelt and greedily slurped at the cool waters of a brackish fountain, relaxing as the liquid washed down her parched throat. Everything was forgotten as the voices slipped into the quiet oblivion of sleep. Her young body exhausted nearly to the fate of her unfortunate mount, she found herself unable to move; even after a sharp pain in her ribs jerked her eyes open. "Move along! We don't like your kind!" Another swift kick sent her jumping against the low wall of the fountain. Exploding with rage that quickly boiled up inside her, she leapt at her assailant, only to be pushed past him and right back into the dirt. A small crowd was beginning to form and was cheering the man who had kicked her. She picked herself up off the ground and after another painful kick to the rear, continued walking away from that hateful desert. And now, from these hateful savages. Three hours later, the sky has grown dark and the full moon begun its ritual journey. Every sore step of the long walk and every aching misstep deafens her to the many night sounds of the forest. Her stormy musings linger on the events of the past few days, oppressing even the ceaseless rustling of the voices in her head. Unnoticed, A thin cobbled pathway trails off the main road towards a homely wayhouse. "Come, come. The chill of the night is no proper place for your wearied bones. Come in, please."

Pathway

Cureth stumbled to the fountain and splashed the cool liquid to her parched lips, nearly fainting from exhaustion. She had left the horse where it collapsed a few miles from town and run the rest of the way. Fear of what she did had given her the strength to keep running, but the rush was now over. Her legs were battered from the hard gallop she had pushed the horse into and sore from the prolonged running.

Her head screamed for her to stay alert. She must find a place to rest. The streets are not safe in a town like this. There could be cutthroats... or worse.

The words meant nothing. She knelt and greedily slurped at the cool waters of a brackish fountain, relaxing as the liquid washed down her parched throat. Everything was forgotten as the voices slipped into the quiet oblivion of sleep. Her young body exhausted nearly to the fate of her unfortunate mount, she found herself unable to move; even after a sharp pain in her ribs jerked her eyes open.

"Move along! We don't like your kind!" Another swift kick sent her jumping against the low wall of the fountain. Exploding with rage that quickly boiled up inside her, she leapt at her assailant, only to be pushed past him and right back into the dirt. A small crowd was beginning to form and was cheering the man who had kicked her. She picked herself up off the ground and after another painful kick to the rear, continued walking away from that hateful desert. And now, from these hateful savages.

Three hours later, the sky has grown dark and the full moon begun its ritual journey. Every sore step of the long walk and every aching misstep deafens her to the many night sounds of the forest. Her stormy musings linger on the events of the past few days, oppressing even the ceaseless rustling of the voices in her head. Unnoticed, A thin cobbled pathway trails off the main road towards a homely wayhouse.

"Come, come. The chill of the night is no proper place for your wearied bones. Come in, please."

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws