Lys: Too Much Thought

She had never wanted her freedom so badly. Even when she was first taken, she had not felt like this. But now she was headed to a place... a wonderful place... a place where her status seemed as thought it should be an abomination. But the Guttersnipe did not see it that way. Who knew how many slaves served Lord Ambrosius? But she could not reconcile the idea of such a man owning slaves.

And so she laid there, curled in a ball, weeping for all that was lost, and all that could never be.

Presently her tears slowed- as all tears do- and she sat up, sniffing. She dreaded rejoining the group. Upon thought, she found it strange that they had not chased after her. She could, after all, have simply run away. She could still. Leave and not return. For awhile she considered it. But she felt too drained to try it. And deep down she knew she had no chance alone, and that she could not bear to leave the Guttersnipe. She was more like family than most of the people Aithne had known in Britain.
She furrowed her brow. It was too much to think on. She was too tired to think...
Laying her head back on the ground, she was asleep only seconds later.