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[gypsy_merrique]

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Merrique woke up slowly in the strange hour of the morning in which minutes tend to drag on like miniature centuries. She pulled a small time piece from her pocket, tethered to her skirt by a fine gold chain and squinted at it in the gloom. Five a.m. With a groan-like sigh she flopped back into the pillows. Pillows! thought she; it was true, it was real. A bed, warmth, and by all means comparative safety. The Matriarch Ceinwyn warned her that she may see strange things, perhaps even potentially dangerous things. But the truth was the gypsy had seen just about all the strangeness and harsh reality that a woman in her mid twenties could ever expect to see in these lands.

All in all, she thought, her first shift at the Den Of Sin went fairly well. With the exception, of course, of the young man who for whatever reason saw fit to spill his own blood at the very table he occupied. How will I ever overcome this fear? Simply laying there in the darkness thinking of blood was enough to give her heart palpitations. With that, she sat up once again and swung her legs out of bed. Quickly, she changed into a fresh dress and put her pocket watch where it belonged on the clean garment. Barefoot, she padded silently up into the deserted bar area--even Kane was nowhere to be seen.

With a grin, she grabbed the pole and gave a little spin around before heading to the door for a quiet walk into town.
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. . . But the dark is very trustworthy.
It's always as dark as you thought it was.
And you don't have to work at staying there.
All you have to do is survive it.
And I've been doing that forever.
from the novel "Dark Debts" by Karen Hall