He didn't notice her at first, his expression sour as he stared at the ceiling. *** "That's not me, Charles. You'll be alright without me, for however long I'm gone."
She slung a leg over the balcony, walking over to him. “Where have you been?” *** He sighed, looking over at her, concern evident in his eyes. “It’s not me that I’m worried about.”
He looked up in surprise, his head tilting. "Clara? What are you doing here?" *** Her expression softened before she sighed. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."
“I hadn’t seen you,” she said with a small shrug. “I was worried.” *** “I have faith in you, but the mortality rates are insane out there, Wren...”
He sat up. "I'm on lockdown. My father won't let me leave." *** "It'll be alright. Just trust me." She shook her head slightly. "What do you have to do today?"
She frowned, coming over to him. “Why?” *** He squinted at her but shook his head. “You’re dismissed, Wren.”
"He suspected that I had something to do with the unsuccessful raid. Did everyone get out okay?" *** She frowned, almost hesitating before giving a slight bow and leaving.
“Almost everyone,” she said slowly. “Some of our ill were lost.” *** He watched her leave before turning on his heel and leaving.
He frowned slightly. "I'm sorry." *** (Zoop!) At least a month had passed. The days slowly grew colder and colder and snow skirted the ground. It was in the evening when there was a knock on the door.
She jerked her head over to him. “You’re sorry? Ezekiel, you saved my family’s life. I could never repay you.” *** Charlie opened the door, dark circles around his eyes.
He seemed uncertain, sighing. "I think they're trying to crack down on it. You need to be extremely careful, Clara." *** It was an older man, looking down at a piece of paper. He squinted at the words before looking up at Charlie. By this point, the war had turned for the better, but was still hard. "Charles Bindred? I regret to inform you that as of a week ago Wren Windsor has been missing in action and presumed dead or captured over enemy lines. You are listed here as her closest contact."
She gave him a small pat on the head. "Don't fret. I know a guy who will bust me out of prison if need be." * * * He blinked and may have staggered slightly. "She's... she's dead?"
He relaxed slightly, but seemed persistent. "I mean everyone, Clara. Your family." *** He folded the paper in his weathered hands, his expression downcast. "It is a possibility."
She considered him for a moment, a small frown on her normally peaceful face. "Maybe it's time to move on," she mused, lying next to him on the bed thoughtfully. "But the amount of cities that are open to nomads is growing thin. I don't even know where we'd go." Her eyes flickered over to him. "I wouldn't see you again." * * * He watched the man, shaking his head slowly. "Did she..." Tears filled his eyes and he shook his head slowly. "How, uh... how was she? When you last saw her?"
This distressed him slightly and he frowned. "I.. Don't like the thought of that. But if you have to do it to protect your family.." *** The old man offered a small smile. "She was yelling at people for not following orders."
She frowned before casually scooting over to him and resting her head on his chest. "Don't think about it," she said quietly. "Not right now, okay? There's enough on my mind." * * * He gave a small, tearful little laugh. "Yeah. Of course she was. Is there any other information you can give me?"
He hugged her with a frown. "Thank you for visiting me." *** "Her death is not confirmed," he clarified. "She may be captured."
She seemed surprised by the hug, but didn't shy away, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair comfortingly, like a mother cooing to her child. "Of course. I was concerned." * * * "Where would she be being kept if she had been captured?"
