The Wodane warrior closed her eyes as she stood in the doorway, doing her best to drive out thoughts of blood, fire and steel. The images simply grew all the bolder in color, all the brighter. There, the splash of red. It...

[hr]

[i]It was too much to bear. They'd stripped Mallach bare and tossed him into the pit with the boars. Ayla could hear her daughter screaming in despair, still unable to comprehend what had just happened but knowing all too well how wrong it was.

Ayla could not look away. There were tears in her eyes, too, a flood of them, but she said no words. Her stare was affixed to her brother's body; her eyes would not close though they knew what was coming. Those eager pigs waltzed up to the body at a leisurely pace, snorting and sniffing. Then, the brute beasts clamped their tusked maws about his arms and legs, ripping away flesh and swallowing it down right before her eyes.

Ayla tucked her daughter's head into her chest, letting the girl cry and cry. She covered her ears, too, not wanting sweet Ganna to hear the sickening crunch of teeth through bone. But Ayla couldn't look away.[/i]

[hr]

When she came back to her senses, the girl was still talking of a library and stories. It didn't register fully with Ayla. The memories were too vivid. She scowled.

"I [i]said,[/i]" the warrior grunted between gritted teeth, "I've a dark cloud." She glanced back at Mysaren and gave her a serious look, looking a bit wilder than she intended. "I'll hear your stories [i]later.[/i] Later. But I need a drink."

It wasn't the dark woman's fault, really. Ayla knew that. But these moods came upon Ayla too often, rare as they were. Any memory like that visited too often, even if "too often" was just once. She stalked out of the bunk room, intent on following the faint scent of cheap booze. That, however, turned into a walk outside and toward the training yard, perhaps the best place for her in such a foul mood.

She needed to hit something.