[color=D6CC88]When she opened her eyes, Amuné had no idea where she was at first.  She felt all fuzzy and her head hurt.  There was someone leaning over her, their hair brilliant white in the poor lighting.  “Daddy?” she asked, struggling to sit up.  But her eyes found their focus, and it wasn’t her father, nor any of the Ydrans from his tribe.  Her face fell, and the surge of relief she’d felt evaporated.  “Who...where’s Wyth?  Where’s Ethan?” The girl rubbed her eyes and looked around, trying to get her bearings, and what she saw wasn’t pleasant.  The room was all but bare, dim and not very clean.  She was in what seemed like a small cell, metal bars that bore traces of rust on two sides, and cold stone on the other two.  A sudden chill made the girl shudder.  There were a couple others in the cell, three women and two men, including the one that she’d mistaken for her father.  All had the white hair and sharp features that marked Ydrans.  Beyond the bars, the room wasn’t terribly big, though various boxes and pieces of furniture filled most of the space.  There were several others there, most of them clustered around a table near the window, playing some sort of game.

“I’m sorry, child, but it seems they took you away from your folks.”  The man spoke very quietly.  “But it’s not the end yet.  The Saints watch over us -- have faith.”
One of the women snorted.  “The Saints have abandoned us,” she retorted, her voice angry.  “There’s nothing--”
“Hush, both of you.”  A second Ydran woman waved at them to be quiet.  “You’ll attract their attention, and that’s never good.  ...We’ll do what we can, alright sweetie?”  Somehow she managed to smile at the girl, though fear was written on her features.  Amuné nodded mutely and retreated to the far corner, pushing herself against where the two stone walls met.  She was shaking, and dread was a hollow pit in her stomach, clawing at her heart and throat.  Something terrible was pressing at her Sight, but she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block it out.  She didn’t need to be told this was bad.  No Wyth, no Ethan, no anybody.  Just a few strange Ydrans that were just as badly off, and the awful fear that the nasty men had hurt the moorcat when they took her, that Wyth might be in just as much trouble, caged up somewhere worried about her, or left hurting, or--

No, she couldn’t think about that.  Already her eyes stung with tears.  She already had to find her mommy and daddy, she couldn’t bear it if Wyth went missing too.  He would find Ethan, and they’d both come for her.  She had to believe that.  She had to.[/color]