Many people would tell you, if asked for their opinion, how they felt about crises, that there's no such thing, only an opportunity which may or may not leave the person experiencing it better or worst afterwards. Melanie was one of these people, if only because she was, and seeing a problem as any other way would've crushed her young heart a long time ago. Currently her crises, that wasn't really a crises but a chance to come out a head or behind the world, were the cuts of rope tied around her wrist. There was also a guard in the room with her, but he was asleep, arms folded on a nearby desk and blade in a cutlass he left on the floor.
How she ended up in the position she wasn't exactly clear on yet. One moment she was walking around in a small bazaar, hoping to meet with someone who had a ship and the next instant there was only blackness, lots of it, so deep and full there weren't even dreams. When she woke up she was there. There was a throbbing pain on her skull so she assumed she'd been careless and gotten whacked on the head and then dragged off. Well it was her own fault, next time she's listen to the old, bitter man warning her against the little town because it was really just a front for a grow of slave trading pirates.
"Hey" Melanie whispered, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes to see if there was a change in her guard's face. Nothing. "Are you awake?" Again nothing. "No?" Finally, enough of a nothing. "Okay." She nodded. "Good then." A black blade appeared in her hands, from her long sleeve and she quickly cut away the ropes that kept her hands behind her back. The ropes dropped to the floor and made a surprisingly loud thump in the confined cabin. The man's head came up but was quickly put back down when his throat disappeared in a flash of black steel and red blood. He couldn't even scream on account of their just not being enough air.
Melanie's neck cracked as she worked on the kinks left from being in that position for so long. "Bastards." She gritted her teeth and fought down the urge to go on a rampage. That wouldn't end well. Maybe later she'd be able to return for her vengeance, but at the moment all she could do was escape the ship and get to dry land.
The woman in black's luck was amazing considering her hubris had almost gotten her killed. She was able to make it to the ship's deck and find a rowboat all before someone noticed the dead body and everyone rushed towards the top and by the then she was already rolling away towards the tiny piece of land as fast as her skinny, yet muscular arms could push her. By the time the ship changed course she was already throwing herself off her little tub onto the sandy beach. Without looking back she ran into the forest, and disappeared into the night.
The sun was well over head when she found her way to the berry village. Her clothes were dry by then but her hair was still plastered to her skull. "Strange." She muttered as she looked around, one kunai in her hand, hidden behind her back just incase someone tried something like before. "I didn't know fruit was such a big deal. It's everywhere where I come from." She stopped and turned her head towards some kind of cacophony. "What's going on over there?"
Instead of fallowing that little voice that told her to go the other way she walked towards the sound and soon saw a man run past her, or at least what was what a man would look like if he'd been made out of goo. "What's that?" There were people chasing her. The other way, that was the best route. She went after the man, if only to see what would happen.