There was no man standing over her, ready to make her "learn" a lesson. There was no harsh-eyed woman ready to toss her out again into the night. Instead was a man with an extended hand, a friendly hand, that took hold of hers. As she looked into his eyes, she was struck by the intensity of them. Somehow, he knew her, or at least understood what it was like to be her. Her defiant face wavered for a moment as she was helped to her feet. As much as she disliked having to be helped, she knew when she should be thankful. "Thank you, sir." she said loud enough for him to her.
Then she disappeared amongst the crowd once more and watched from a distance. Curiosity of the man who had helped her overwhelmed her fear of retribution from any of the patrons and she stayed. Besides, it was warm. The man seemed lost in thought of something, and she wondered what he was thinking about. Later on he began a conversation with another man and she turned her attention elsewhere.
The lady who was ill, Cree was her name she discerned, seemed to have many who cared for her. Blessed and Cursed, she thought. Will I ever be Blessed? Or only Cursed? She pitied the woman. Whatever she was sick with was not a pretty thing. It seemed similar to what had taken her mother. But she didn't like to think of such things and crawled a little closer along the wall to the fire and curled up. The warm air and the a stomach with food in it made her drowsy and she tried to resist the embrace of sleep. She had no money and she was sure that she would be forced to leave when the Inn closed up for the night. Yet fight as she might, sleep overtook her and she dreamed of a home and memories taken too soon from her. When morning came, she would know the outcome of her stay and face the consequences. But perhaps she could find a place for herself here.
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