Armand still hadn't quite gotten over how much traveling to the other side of the caravan felt like traveling to another world entirely. Where the guards lived, everyone spoke the same tongue and ate the same food and fought the same way. Here people dressed in odd clothes, spoke in tongues he did not understand, and often had an aura of danger that Armand found strangely palatable.

Jonah stirred a pot over the fire while Armand sat with the other three sellswords, a hand of catch-card at the ready. Already he'd taken three pieces of ingot from Oliver, the one who looked like he was fifteen. He moved in a way that reminded Armand of a mouse with a hawk directly overhead. Armand threw down a card and Oliver scowled and handed over another ingot.

"Not so fast," the man on his left said as he threw down his own card. It had two circles on it, which clearly beat out Armand's three small diamonds. He groaned and handed two of his ingots to Darius. His green eyes smiled as he slid the ingots into his pockets. The third man, the one with the twinkling blue eyes and scruffy blonde beard, threw down his cards.

"I'm done with this, Darius," he groaned.

"Oh, come on, Itha, one more hand," Darius said. 

"You've already taken most of our money!" Oliver protested, to which both Itha and Armand nodded in agreement. Not that he'd started with much. The three ingots in his pocket were more than the zero he'd started the game with. He felt the smooth metal under his fingers. Come to think of it he couldn't remember the last time he'd had money.

"I need to go out back," Armand said. 

"Better run before Darius takes everything you got," Jonah replied with a laugh as he sipped something out of a wooden spoon. It smelled like heaven and made Armand more aware of his growling stomach. He popped around the back of the rent and went to relieve himself.

He turned to walk back after a few minutes, completely oblivious to the figure that waited for him there until whoever it was grabbed his arm and dragged him off a few feet. Armand ripped his arm away from the person, who latched onto it insistently and continued to drag him. They were small and dressed head to toe in what looked like rags. Their face was covered except for the eyes, but it was too dark for Armand to see anything past the glint of desperation they held.

Armand sighed and shook his head, then followed. The figure never let go of his wrist as they weaved in and out of buildings and around children sleeping in the open night air. Suddenly the figure took a hard left toward a dilapidated wagon. Splinters stuck out the side, and it didn't look like the harness for the camel had been patched in many years. He guessed that this was where they lived, since not everyone around here had money for both a tent and a wagon.

The figure tugged him up the stairs and he pulled his arm away. They pointed. Armand groaned and followed the person inside, crouched low so his head wouldn't hit the top. Almost the whole floor was taken up by a pile of blankets. A lantern flickered next to them. The soot and smell of animal fat nearly stifled him as the flap closed behind them, trapping them in with it. He couldn't believe anyone could live in here.

"Alright, I followed you into the creepy wagon, what do you want?" Armand demanded as the figure dragged him inside. He wrenched his arm out of their grasp and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The person ripped down their hood. Armand nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. There was no question it was her. He wouldn't mistake that face for anything.

Wren's eyes watered as she took a crouched step toward him and flung herself around his waist. Armand froze for a moment before he wrapped his around her. The entire world froze for what seemed like an eternity before she let go again.

"Where have you been?" Armand asked, voice still weak from shock. Tears started rolling down her face. She held tightly to his wrist, as if she were afraid that if she let go he would leave again. Armand's eyes softened. She looked terrible. Like she hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. Someone had cut all her hair off and dyed it black with something that ran around the sides of her head and made it look like she'd rubbed behind her ears with dirt. A deep purple bruise that made Armand wince started on her left cheek and bloomed up into her eye socket. He recognized the probable source only because it matched his own.

"Elyn hid me with one of his friends. They said they would take me to the city but--" Wren turned away from him and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"What happened to you?" he asked as he took a step closer to her. The hurt in her eyes reminded him of what he'd said to her right before she'd left. He thought he'd never see her again. He put a hand on her upper arm and tried to turn him to face her, but she wouldn't.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked.

Armand winced and let go of her. His whole face felt hot and he wished for a moment that the ground would swallow him up whole. Why did he need to say that? Elyn didn't even want her. It wasn't like it was her fault.

"No," he answered finally. "I...still don't know why I said it." He paused. "Did you?"

Wren looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. She sucked her lips into her mouth and folded her arms. His heart shattered in his chest. Why did he have to go and be such an idiot? He sighed and put his head into his open palm. 

Wren didn't say anything. She kept her arms folded and looked at the ground. Tears slipped down her face and pooled at her chin. Armand's heart ached. He reached out and wiped the tears from below her eye and she tilted her head into his hand, then put her hand over his. He put his arms around her and drew her into his chest.

"I can't."

"It's okay," he said, as her legs began to buckle and she puddled on the ground like water poured from a waterskin.

"I can't. I can't. I want to go home," Wren said miserably, crying so hard that it was hard to make out what she was saying.

"It's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Armand held on to her as her whole body racked with sobs. He awkwardly petted her head, completely at a loss for things to say or do that would help. Everything he said or did seemed to just make everything worse.

Eventually the sobs quieted and Wren was still. He sat there and listened to her breathe. Air heaved unevenly in and out of her chest and his shirt was wet with her tears. Armand looked toward the canvas flap. He let go of her and went to stand up.

"Please don't leave me alone," she whispered, and she grabbed his hand and squeezed it so hard it hurt. Armand's breath caught in his chest and he sat back down. She looked broken, like a bird whose wings had been cut and left bloodied. It hurt him to look at her.

"Okay," he said. His chest ached and a lump caught in his throat. He cupped her head in his hand and ran his thumb along her jawline. Her breathing eased until quick, shallow gasps became so soft and deep he could barely hear them. The point of her jaw fluttered like a butterfly, then slowly settled into a rhythm. Her eyes closed. For a long time the only sound was breathing. Armand got up as quickly and quietly as he could manage and lifted the canvas flap on the wagon again.

"Are you going to leave?" she said in a voice so quiet Armand almost didn't hear it.

"Do you want me to?" he asked.

Armand looked back at her. She shook her head 'no'. Her body curled in on itself and all of the sudden Armand couldn't bear the thought of leaving her like that. The sellswords might wonder, but they would get over it. He could come back at dawn. Hell, they probably wouldn't care if he never came back at all.

He turned the knob on the lantern and the wagon plunged into darkness. Wren rustled in the dark and moved over a bit. He shifted down beside her and she moved to rest her head on his chest. Armand's heart thudded in his ears. He hoped she wouldn't hear how loud and fast it was beating. He ran a hand across the back of her head. Her hair was short, but soft and not entirely unpleasant to touch.

After a while she settled. Her breathing got deep again and her body relaxed and rolled off to the side. Armand curled up next to her and fought to get his eyes to close and for his mind to stop racing. It was a long time before he slept.  

---

Well it looks like we found Wren again! What do you think of her reaction to seeing Armand again? How would you feel?