[pnpgm] Camp troubles

[d kerr]

With little talent for cooking or hunting in the wilderness.  Maelorna
works on gathering firewood.  If the cold troubles her she ignores it,
preferring it to other aches.  She reaches up on occasion to make sure the
collar is truly off and pauses more than once to remind the little whisper
in her mind to shut up.

She does attempt to hide her dislike of the forest, finding the greenery
and nature itself an anathema to her desires or for that matter, beliefs
and outlook on life.  Pausing once with a haunted look in her eyes as she
mutters to herself, "A town or a city, would suffice." as she knows its
only a matter of time before the little whisper will become an all
consuming scream of a void she'll have to fight to ignore.

After the last of her food, having only enough for two days travel and one
of those she had given to the newcomer.  She looks at the fire and wonders
at the question.  Then with a rueful smile she starts to talk.  "My
parents?  Well, there is my mother, Verlah Snowcrest, after all these
years, I'm sure she's still the leader of the small town I grew up in, I
don't even remember it's name anymore, but it was sizable, maybe twenty to
thirty families all living in the wastes of the tundra.  However, she was
or still is a cultist of I think it was Princess Naamah.  I'm guessing she
struck the bargain with Gniled due to a perceived threat I might have posed
when I grew up, as she certainly didn't need the money when she sold me to
him.  As for the one she rutted with, his part of their little union is
something I try not to imagine.  Then again, if not for them, I wouldn't be
the woman I am today." she chuckles softly, "As for him, well, I don't know
his name, yet.  His family, however, is one I am trying my best to stay
away from, as I have little doubt of the sort of reunion it would be."  as
she gives an involuntary shudder.

She re-positions herself to kneel and ignore the discomforts of her
surroundings, running through the litany of training foisted upon her by
Gniled, unconsciously mouthing the words and phrases, all the while the
whisper starts back up again.
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