Reply to ::River::

[``Constantine]

As Jenny walked across the docks, she paid little heed to the path she tread.
The wood that made up the docks on the outcroppings of the wharves were not in the best of conditions, having been exposed to the ruthless elements of wind and water. It creaked under the weight of Jenny, and in some parts it even sagged a little.
It was a dangerous place to be, for any, but especially for a young girl of scarcely fifteen. Who knew what might happen: would the wood collapse underneath her weight? Would she stumble and fall into the water? Or would something far more sinister happen?
It was a vague, passing thought, that the docks really should be repaired. However, it was quickly dismissed with the knowedge of where she was: Sceith, and under the rule of the Tyrant King, no less.

The mere thought of the Tyrant King, that cruel man that had instigiated the attacks that had killed her fathe,r was enought to send shivers coursing down her back. It had been ingrained in her, for as long as she could remember, that to fear the Tyrant King was not an act of cowardice, but a prudent decision. It was a fool who thought the Tyrant King was naught to be reckoned with.
There had been rumors about the man for as long as she had lived, and a year in his very kingdom had bequeathed her with a healthy fear of the man. It was said that nothing was said or done without the knowledge of his Magesty the Tyrant.

Of course, if that was true, then he knew about her and Rollo, the wolf that the young red-head had saved and be-friended over the past year.
Jenny halted suddenly, her feet planting themselves into the grain of the the wood, her chosen location of halt putting her at a corner post. The post was wrapped with salt-saturated rope, and had been worn away by the wind and sea. The edges were frayed, and stained with gull droppings.
However, as Jennifer knelt down beside the post and then slid her feet over the edge of the wood to suspend in mid-air, she steadied herself with a hand on the rope, and took no notice of the crud.

As she swung her feet, Jenny thought about the wolf that she called 'friend'. He was big, and gray - a normal color - and very clever. He had saved her, that one day, and had ever since been a part of her life. Sometimes he was there, and others he was off on his own quest.
Whenever they were together, Jenny felt safe, and protected: a rare feeling to be found within the lands of Sceith.
The girl swung her legs back and forth, and old habit that suited a child of seven better than a young woman of fifteen. She was also humming, the sounds in rhythem with the swings of her legs; at several interval she also uttered the name Rollo. Which could be a rather ironic name, as it meant 'wolf' in the Old language.

[``Constantine]

The forest was creepy, there was no doubt about it. The trees loomed above any who walked the grounds, their thick, ghastly crowns effectively blocking any and all lights from gracing the forest floors. The underbrush was thicker still, wild and untamed, forbidding, meant to deter even the bravest of men. But Jenny wasn't a man; she was a girl, fifteen years of age. She was as yet untouched, unclaimed, and unwanted in the world of men. She was also on a quest, having sworn to rescue her captured family even if it cost her her very life.

It had been a Sceithian raid that had killed her father, a fierce flow to the families heart. It was because of Mother that they family as a whole had persevered. When Jenny and two of her siblings had gone to the market in the next town, their shoreside village had been raided. Most were slaughtered, the mens heads put up on pikes, the women and children captured to use as slaves.

The return home had been tragic, shocking to Jenny's older, milder sister Brianna, and devestating. to their youngest brother Sawny. It was then that Jennifer has sworn an oath to the ancestors that she would not rest until she had recovered her family.
The brazen fifteen year old girl had left at once, and was in Sceith by the weeks end. Since then, she had been scouring the lands for word of her brothers, sister, and mother.

Along the way, she had come across a wolf; their meeting had not been the most opportune of meetings, as it had been a very real possibility that both of them might die, but it was not long before the wolf began to shadow Jenny at times, offering protection and guidance.
Rollo, as the young red-head had began to call the beast, had actually played a key part in finding the information that gave a possible lead as to where one of her brothers, Willie, was.

While this had been good knews for one who had spent an entire year searching for the lost family members, it was also rather disheartening. If the informer was correct, then Willie was a slave within the very Tyrant Kings castls. As brave and courageous as she had come to be, Jenny still got cold chills down her back whenever she thought of the hated rulers name.
Luckily, she was not alone: Rollo was to help her.

Rollo, a giant gray wolf that was more intelligent than one would think a wolf would be, understood much of what Jenny said. It was odd, but, in that way that only the young can truly do, she did not question this. That went to show that, even if she was fifteen years old, she was still rather naive.
It was fortunate indeed that she had the protection and guidance of wolf, then. Otherwise, she might have foundered long ago.

Even though the wolf was her de facto guard, he did not travel with her. For one, especially in populated areas, large, ferocious-looking canines were rather frowned upon, and some well-meaning hunter might think to save Jenny by killing Rollo. This was not something that either of them wanted.
For another, while still intelligent, Rollo was a wolf, and acted accordingly. It was not wise to be around a hungry wolf, even if you were one it thought it's comrade.

The both of them had entered the forest some time ago, when it was about mid-morning. Immediantly, it had darkened, until it could have been night time. However, Jenny knew that it was decidedly early in the evening. Wolves were wonderful for keeping track of meal times.

Jenny had been walking for a long time. She had started out cautiously; tales of beasts that wandered the forests were prevalent throughout all the realms. However, as the time wore on, and she encountered nothing that wanted to harm her, indeed nothing at all, Jenny relaxed a bit, and was now moving with a good pace that was meant to preserve energy and cover a good amount of ground.

She had no idea where she was, how far she had walked, or how far she had left to go. All she knew was that the forest lead to the castle, and that she just had to keep moving foreward.
It was not long before she grew lonely, and, with companionship and warm fur in mind, she called out, "Rollo? Where are you?"
The wolf would here, and come.

[``Constantine]

Jenny waited for the wolf for a full three minutes. That had been their arranged waiting time. And if Rollo did not appear, then either there were other humans around, he was hunting, or something was very much wrong.
Frankly, all three of those thought brought shivers down her back. Other humans spelled disaster; some of the mages of Sceith were said to walk the forest, and they would most deffinately not welcome her.
The hunting wolf was a fearsome sight. Jennifer had only seen Rollo hunt once, and the experiance was enough to last her a lifetime. Even now, she could still remember the white of his teeth against the red of the does blood.
And if something was wrong, then that was bad. Beyond bad.

Rollo did bound out of the thickets, nor did he stalk underneath a bush. In fact, there were no signs of him, that he had been here, or that he would. This immediantly sent a chill down Jennies spine, and her response was to crouch down and take cover, and listen before moving.
The bush she was pressed up against was musty and dank, but Jenny did not dare to curl up her lips in disgust. Instead, she strained her ears yet more, hoping to catch sound of something.

There. It was faint, as if it was far away, or spoken quietly, but it was there. Voices.
Tension that had been there before was newly realized, and Jenny felt herself poise to run, the normal instinct when encountered with an enemy.
"Nothing but shitty bastards." She heard. The very wording of the phrase was enough to make her freeze. Although she had only been in Sceith for a year, she had come to learn to speak their variation of the common tongue, and to be able to mimic their speech patterns.

Most of the Sceithians spoke with slurs and clips, cutting off endings of words and melding commonly used words to form their own sort of vernacular.
It was like but unlike that of Hebride. In Hebride, the people were careful with their spoken language.
This person, most definately did not speak as a Sceithian, and while it was close, it was most assuredly not Hebrian; the inflections upon the words were almost alien.

Jenny, curious despite herself, began to creep toward the source of the voice. She might discover what manner of person spoke in such a manner, and maybe it would be someone friendly...

[``Constantine]

"They already had sons, why would they want a daughter?" A second voice said. Jenny once again froze rigidly in place. This voice definitely spoke with the Sceithian inflections.
Still, the young Hebridian couldn't help but be further piqued. A Sceithian, with an unknown factor. Oh, it was too much for the young girl to resist.
Jenny, going on that intuition that seemed to belong soley to the young, did not feel that the voices were owned by evil mages. They sounded too innocent for that. And besides, what sort of evil Sceithian talked about what parents wanted?

As she crept forward, there was a pause, and then, this time spoken once again by the person with the strange accent, the silence was broken with, "My parents had two sons, but they only really wanted their daughters. What about the first lady you mentioned, Serra?"
It was said in a short, breathy tone, as if the speaker had run a marathon and had to walk it off and recover. It was curious, and only fueled the girls interest to get closer and see who and what they were.

She was close, now, almost close enough to see them. However, she was still crouched within the undergrowth of the forest, bushes and shrubs spread so closely together as to form a sort of wall. It was a perfect place to hide from unsuspecting others.