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Eleforian Elite Guard
Maia had gone, bought a loaf of bread, a large hunk of cheese, and a quarter pound of jerky before returning to the inn, and slipping into the stables. She had remained away until after the evening feeding, and so slid up into the loft, among the hay, and into a corner without being seen. It was a small blessing that the grooms had their own shared room connected to the stables. After all, that meant they'd be unable to truly hear her.

She used her pack for a pillow, and slept under one of the high windows, after making sure that there was a sill that would hold her weight, hanging from her weapon. The stables were not so high that she couldn't use her weapon to climb down if needed. Her escape route was set.

Blue-violet eyes flew open at the first hint of sound. The sound of creaking leather and soft footsteps, and some strange..rustling? Was that hay? She was unsure. Shifting slowly, she slid up and looked out the window. The sun would begin to rise soon. The eastern sky was turning that semi-gray. Not enough to even be true semidarkness, but close. She swung her pack over her shoulders, and then took her whip-knife, set the hook into the hole she had made the night before with it, and slid out the window. The eight foot chain gave her just enough room to let her toes his the ground lightly before she flipped it with a jerk, and it popped out of it's place with a small pop of cracking wood. Hastily, she ran her fingers through her hair, raised her hood to shadow her face, and moved around to the front of the stables, just as the true predawn started her weapon slipping through her hands as she coiled it and slid it back into place. Precisely on time.. She hid a smile, satisfied. She did frown lightly. Adam was not there. There was a strange, hunchbacked person looking out... Her eyes swung back to him, and caught the bright glint of his eyes. Of course. He was a trouble maker. He couldn't just walk from the city.

Her steps were soft and sure. "Good morning, Adam." It was a guess, but there were few others that would be out so early, and the grooms were not hunchbacked. "Are you ready?" Her voice was low, but not a whisper. She knew the dangers of how whispers could carry, the sibilant sounds and hisses.
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Clarion Call to Chaos · City Randatria

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