This is nice…
Quinns thoughts drift up through the velvety folds of slumber, a gentle prodding in her peaceful surroundings. The warm sun of mid-morning envelops Misery in its golden embrace, urging her out of her untroubled sleep. Oblivious to her environment, Misery stretches luxuriously, reveling in the warmth and comfort encasing her in an uncontentious bubble.
This is definitely nice…
Yawning, she sits up slowly, wrapping her arms around her knees. An unwanted thought fumbles its way into her brain…
Where am I?
And on the heels of that…
How did I get here?
Immidiatly she goes on the defensive; her hand shoots to her side, where her staff is… or would have been. With a startled cry, she realizes her staff, her most treasured possession, the last remnant of her dead husband, is gone.
Summoning her energy, Quinn crouches. She swings her head cautiously from side to side, blind gaze penetrating.
After a couple minutes of complete silence, she stands slowly, straining to hear or “see” anything.
A faint trace of an aura hangs lightly in the air, but its so faded Quinn cant tell who’s it was or even what their intentions were…
Her thoughts begin racing, heart pounding. If whoever had been here had meant her harm, they would have already killed or hurt her… wouldn’t they? Should she run? Without her staff she couldn’t make it two steps without falling on her face… Did they take her staff or had she dropped it somewhere in the cemetery?
The last makes her stop in her tracks. The cemetery. Her fathers grave.
”I killed my father… I killed my father…”