Corra straightened from her post against the wagons moments before they began to move. With a few shouts from the guards it seemed that they were now on their way. [color=8882be]“And so it begins,”[/color] she muttered under her breath. She shook her head lightly, trying to clear it of her earlier thoughts, and began to walk alongside the caravan. Corra did not look back at the city they were leaving behind. [i]Memories[/i], she told herself. [i]It’s all nothing but memories now.[/i] 

She could tell that this was going to be a slow journey. Their entire company was comprised mostly of small children with a few old guards to look after them. She could already hear one of the younger ones sniffling quietly within the wagon she was next to. She spent the first few minutes thinking to herself, pondering the current situation, not that it did her any good. All she had was questions. She wondered how long this whole affair would last, if they had enough supplies for everyone there, how many of them would actually stand a chance of making it through a fight. 

Corra had heard one of the guards talking of getting “real weapons” for anyone who could use one, but she thought it may be better to simply ignore it. She’d never held a spear in her life, and she doubted that she’d be of any real use with one. She had her dagger, and that would have to suffice. Anything else would just slow her down. At least the iron blade was in decent condition. She’d sharpened it just the day before.

She could hear the others striking up small, awkward sounding conversations around her. There seemed to be a few more refugees around her age than she had first expected. She glanced at each of them in turn. Talking wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Under normal circumstances she loved meeting strangers; they were always so interesting. Today however, she’d been feeling a bit depressed. The kind of morose feelings that you can’t help but express on the outside, and that wasn’t like her. Perhaps a conversation with an amusing person would put her back into her normal state, and all people were amusing in one way or another. She loved more than anything hearing about the places they’d come from, and the adventures they’d had. In the capital, one came across people from every corner of the world, and to a young girl who’d never been outside of the city’s limits, Corra grew to like the stories she found strangers willing to tell her very much.

Looking to her left, she found a good target. The blond young man rode a rather expensive looking horse, wearing rather expensive looking armor. He looked to be about her age, if perhaps a year or two older. He obviously came from some kind of money. Anyone who owned a horse and their own suit of armor had money to spare. Were they anywhere else Corra probably would’ve picked the boy’s pocket and made a few easy gold coins. Here, though, she wouldn’t. What Corra found so interesting was that despite their clearly different upbringings, in this caravan they were just two refugees. With that thought, she sidled up to his horse, easily maintaining the slow pace they all kept. Astride the beast he seemed to tower over her, and Corra was not extremely tall to begin with. However, if she let every single person who stood above her intimidate her, she’d never have lasted a single day in Arrvern. Besides, this one didn’t seem particularly intimidating. The boy looked young, and nervous.

[color=8882be]“You don’t look like most common refugees,”[/color] she said, an easy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.