Hooded and cloaked she rode on the back of one of the wagons, watching the keep disappear in the distance. The ashes falling almost looked like snow, but for that they were grey rather than white. It would be a long journey and it twas hard to tell where they would settle but settle they would.
Alisandra vowed to return someday should the keep ever be reclaimed by another group, if only to tell a story or sing a song and receive lodging and a hot meal for the night. This would make for a fine tale in another day and she would be the one to tell it.
Finally the burning remains were out of sight as they continued on, and she began to write down thoughts on pieces of parchment carried with her so that she might never forget her feelings of foreboding or what it was like to leave yet another place she’d called home. Leaving was difficult but she’d always had a wandering heart so not as difficult as for some, and she would survive.
