Ramblings in Story Form

[elizaTrickster]

Ok, I have not had the chance to read through this yet. Cits. are welcome!

Her pulse oozed like sludge in her veins. She could almost feel her blood circulating through her body. Her head ached. Her legs were sore. And she was tired. But she couldn’t stop running. She had to press on no matter what. There was no turning back.
She stumbled.
For longer than she intended, she lay on the damp ground. She smelled the familiar scent of earth. Inhaling deeply and sighing, she rose, and continued. She was trudging now through the underbrush, only half-aware of the thorns tearing at her skin. Pain was something for people without anything better to think about. A branch swung at her, whacking her right in the face. She grumbled and fiercely pushed it out of the way. Normally, she loved the forest. The peaceful calm that descended after rain, the twittering of birds in the spring used to make her happy. But now, tonight, the forest held a greater purpose. Escape.
A few hours back she knew she was no longer being pursued. She would not take the risk of being caught now. Not when her life was at stake. It was what was most precious to her. She understood life was something to be coveted, not risked. Life. What a fragile thing. It’s the only thing that is ever truly yours, and it can be se easily taken from you.
A twig snapped.
She was off like a shot. Running again, she allowed fear to overtake her. It gave her speed and resilience. How could she know if it was just some woodland creature or her pursuers who snapped that twig? She couldn’t. So she ran. Running was awkward; her legs kept tangling themselves in her skirts. She would have to get new clothes. But that was a thought for morning. Thoughts too, could be separated into day and night. Mundane things such as clothing and rest existed in day. In the night the only thought was fear.
She slowed. Her ragged breathing was the only sound to be heard. The fear that gripped her slowly dissipated as she got her bearings. She did not know this place. Which was bad. Not only was she in danger, but she was also lost. She cursed silently to herself and spat. It was the most unladylike thing she’d ever done. Well, present situation in exception.
Suddenly, it was completely dark.

[elizaTrickster]

~*~
Groggily awaking, she passed her swollen tongue over her parched lips. The pain in her head roared like a best from hell. When she made to rub her eyes, a piercing pain shot through her arm. She snapped her eyes open and looked around. Where was she? Had she been captured? Why couldn’t she move? The answer was simple. Checking her terror, she took a breath, and calmed down.
She found herself in a large tent. The fabric in places was worn, and it looked as if it was hastily assembled. There were no furnishings in the tent. No luggage, blankets, or anything that give her a clue as to who her captors where. Obviously she’d been captured. Why else would she awake with a pulsing bump on her head with her limbs bound?
Strangely enough, the last thing she felt was fear. Coolly, she assessed the situation. Escape would be difficult with her arms and legs bound. There was nothing sharp lying around. Her knife had been removed from her stocking. She shuddered. That was disconcerting. Even if she did escape, she’d need supplies.
Shadows passed on the wall in front of her. The shadows seemed to creep like lurking monsters. She could tell from their speech that, indeed, they were human. The tent flap rippled. Quickly she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.
“I know you’re awake.” A gruff voice mumbled near her ear. The man smelled of ale and smoke. It blurred her eyes and made her want to cough. Don’t rogues ever bathe? She slowly opened her eyes, pretending she was actually still asleep. “Now…” He began as he removed a box from his sack, “You are going to answer a few questions for me. If you refuse…” He slid the box closer, “We might just have to find you the proper… motivation.”
His slow speech bothered her. It was degrading. He dare he speak to her as if she was a moron. But wait. Maybe he spoke this way because he was a stupid git who couldn’t think and speak at the same time. Yeah, that was probably it.
“Fine. Ask me anything you like and I’ll tell you the truth.” She muttered.
“That’s what we like to hear!” His mask of solemnity flickered for a moment. He didn’t want to do this either. “Tell me, what is your name?”
“Eira. Eira of Tipperary.” She grinned. “And you are?”
“Now. I’ll ask the questions for now.” He quickly moved on, “Why where you running around in the woods like a cat burning with the fires of hell?”
Eira blinked at him. “I didn’t know I was running that fast.” Eira laughed. The man was taken aback. A prisoner being questioned never…laughed. “I was running away.” She put simply.
“May I ask what from?”
“No.”
“Then tell me. What were you running from?” He ordered.
“Life.”
“C’mon! What kind of answer is that?” He was getting angry. Eira merely laughed at his frustration.
“An honest one.”
Hi sighed. “Who are you?”
“Does that matter? I’m here now and I have a few questions of my own.” She said and struggled to her feet. It was quite a struggle, but she managed it. Standing over the man she glared. “Who are you? Where am I? Are you going to hurt me? Answer! Do you think these mind games will work?” She gestured to the unopened box with her head.
The man should’ve been angry. He should have yelled at her, forced her down, and tortured her. He laughed. She shouldn’t really be surprised. There seemed to be a lot of happiness in this prison tent.
“Gawd! She’s a feisty one!” The man laughed and gently forced her to sit. “Alright, I’ll answer your questions. First, you must promise not to behave so rashly in front of the boss ok?” He chuckled.
“I promise.”

(do not fear! I shall continue!)

[premiumdancer]

"Don’t rouges ever bathe?"
I'm not sure whether rouges ever bathe, but rogues might. :D

'“Now. I’ll ask the questions for now.” He quickly moved on, “Now why where you running around in the woods like a cat burning with the fires of hell?” '
The amount of times "now" is said is mind-blowing.

Overall, pretty good. I'm wondering how historical accuracy is going to play into this story...

[elizaTrickster]

Ugh. Historical accuracy... I guess I can always talk around it.

[premiumdancer]

Tsk, tsk tsk. I'm just wondering when modern county borders would have been instated and if anyone would have said their county instead of their province.

[elizaTrickster]

Psh. Fie on accuracy! I suppose I'll use that name for a place holder until I figure out what to do.

[premiumdancer]

I suppose it could work if Tipperary was a county then...well, quite honestly, I feel like someone would just say the city or town name if they were in the same province. And if they weren't in the same province, they would say the province. Or they might still say the city or town. And when I say province, I mean one of the four kingdoms of Ireland. (I'm excluding Tara.)