A pale woman with red hair sprints through the cobbled streets of Thruf, gripping tightly onto a leather satchel in one hand, fingers cramping around the butt of a knife in the sleeve of her other.

*%&@!

^$@&!

&!^'!

She rounded the corner of an allyway and used the walls to hop over a crumbling barricade and into the market. Struggling to catch her breath, her eyes darted back and forth. An armored horseman was watching at one end of the plaza, his eyes practically glazed over.

&!%*!

She made herself remember her breath control training as she turned her back to him. Forcing herself to walk, she went through the market stalls and pretended to browse. She glanced sideways at the ally she had left, expecting at any moment for someone to appear.

They never did.

Her lungs eventually caught up to her breathing cycles, giving her the chance to think clearly.

Stupid! Stupid Eira! I blew it! *@&$ idiot! Now they're going to be looking for me!

Eira saw an inconspicuous felt hat at one of the stalls. In one fluid motion, she stowed her hidden blade and withdrew a silver piece from her pocket before she gestured towards the stalls attendant.

The attendant smiled at her, she willed her face to a similar shape and hoped he'd think the sweat was just from the heat.

"Hey Chamile! Here to collect another donation?"

Eira shook her head.

"What can I get for you then?"

She held up the silver piece, using her pinky to keep the sleeve from slipping down her arm, and pointed at the headwear, not trusting herself to speak.

"This one? Sure thing. Keep the silver, you deserve a bit of kindness too with how much you've done for the refugees."

The attendant handed her the hat. Eira mouthed "Thank you" to him, and he responded with a wink.

What am I going to do now? I can't just leave, the huntsmen need supplies.

As she walked away, she twisted her hair into a loose bun and stuffed it in her new hat which draped down over her neck and ears leaving only a few strands poking out near her eyes. It was messy, but it kept her from sticking out in the crowd.

Do I hide? Wait for this to blow over?

She left the market and made her way through the streets, doing her best to stay with the flow of the crowds.

No... check in is tomorrow, I can let whoever comes know the situation when they get to the giving cart. Once they know, we can decide the best course of action. 

Every guardsman in her path put her back on edge. None of them seemed interested in her, most of them simply stared into the distance with their weapons in hand, bored as could be.

Ugh, STUPID! Eight months, no incidents. EIGHT MONTHS! Careless, stupid, *?$&. The sleeves did nothing but draw attention!

She grabbed the ends of her sleeves and shoved them deep in her pockets, clenching her fists in an attempt to stop their shaking.

What? Should I have stayed inside hoping someone would come along with what I need? Who knows how long it would have taken for someone to look for me, and by then it would have only gotten worse. 

Eira wished she'd spent more time exploring the city before getting too invested in her charity project, she found it difficult to navigate when not on her habitual paths.

I have it, and that's what matters. Nobody came after me, all I need to do is stay away.

A familiar location caught her eye, allowing her to orient herself. She was glad she picked the direction she had, it gave her a wide berth around the town square. Every step she took was carefully measured to maintain a casual demeanor. 

They will though. Thruf hates ukitu, but an empowered one? They're gonna lock this whole city down as soon as the bodies are discovered.

She passed into the broken down section of the city. Rumor had it there was a fight here some years ago, but it had never interested her to look into it.

Stupid. Stupid-stupid-stupid! I knew better than to get that close! I should have said I was sick, or waited for him to pass! Careless! Stupid! %^*@!

She arrived at the fixed up shack she called home. 

She struggled to get her hands steady enough to unlock her door, though locking it back up was no challenge. Free from passing eyes she bolted to her shutters and slamed them all shut, throwing her hat and the bag onto her only table when she had them all locked. Her hair unwove itself as the meager support left it.

Once she was sure everything was secure, Eira pressed her back to one of the walls and slid down to the floor. Finally allowing all of her stress to manifest, she broke down into tears.

"What did I do...? What did I do...? Ancestors what did I *@&!^% do...?"

She looked at the the bag on the table, the bronze buckles glinted in what little light still peeked into the room. She could see the face of the guard she'd stolen it from, permanently frozen in her mind. The glint of the buckles grew blurry as her tears amplified. She grasped the sides of her head, almost attempting to rip her hair out by the roots, her sobs becoming a barbaric scream which persisted long after she ran out of the breath to fuel it.

You're stronger than this. 

Eira gasped for air. Her jaw clenched tightly as she crushed her choking sobs into sumbmission, fighting with every fiber of her soul to regain control.

I am stronger than this. I am. I have to be. For the mission.

Eira clawed her way back up the wall until she was standing again.

"I... Am... Stronger... ^!%* it..."

She nearly heaved as her heart fought bitterly against her will.

"For... The mission..."

She slowly stumbled over to her wash basin, each step a test of conviction, and pulled the knife out. Looking into the bronze mirror that had been gifted to her by one of the few sympathetic human nobles, she held the bronze blade in a death grip until her hands became steady once more. The haggard reflection stared back at her, it's hazel eyes taunting her to give in to the emotion and collapse into a sad pile of meat.

"For the mission..."

After a long, long moment, Eira rolled up her sleeves.