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[Phyrra Venorik]

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She stared out at the water with a blank look on her face. Her thoughts drifted in and out like the water hitting shore. Suddenly her hands balled into a tight fist, her knuckles becoming white as the snow and her nails digging into her palm. The rose color in her eyes grew bright and more distinct. She could feel the anger building up inside of her even more. She kept thinking about earlier in the night when she had gone to see Brittany with the others.

She hadn't felt this helpless or lost in so long. It scared her, and it angered her. She had held Brittany and hugged her while she listened to Brittany answer questions about the attack. With each sob and tear, she felt her rage grow even more. They had hurt someone close to her, and someone who was so innocent. It took everything she had to contain the rage. She wanted to lash out at every unknown person and hurt them.

How could people be so cruel? She thought. Brittany did not deserve this...

She almost shook with rage thinking about what these men had done to Brittany. She dreaded going to where she felt she must, to hopefully find some answers as to who did this and why they did it, but she knew she had to. Going there brought back so many bad memories.

She kept seeing the pain and tears in Brittany's eyes in her head, and part of her just wanted to cry with her. She had tried to remain strong and just comfort her. It was all she could do at the time. Now though, it was her time to take action. Payment was due from these people, and she would do everything it took to make them regret what they had done. Everything. She stretched out her hands, realizing her fingers were almost numb, and looked at the scratches her nails had left. With a frown, she put on her gloves and turned to leave for the city.

[Brittany Tyven]

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Brittany sat in the back of the bakery, strumming her harp with her fingertips. She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. The aroma of blueberry muffins filled her senses. This, combined with the calming melody her fingers plucked from the harp, soothed her restless heart. I am so lucky, she thought with a gentle smile. This was quite different from what she had been feeling for the past several days.

Earlier this week, Brit had spent the afternoon studying at the lycaeum and had decided to walk home, as it was a pleasant, autumn evening. The attacked had changed that:

… a hand covering her face…being pushed into the bushes…her wedding jewelry ripped from her… being kicked over and over again…then the men’s hands – beginning to claw violently under her skirt…

Brit shuddered with relief. Something had spooked the men before they could finish with their malicious intentions. She set her harp down and opened the oven door, pulling the muffins from the baking heat. “Mmmm…” she smiled, setting the pan on the counter to cool. Her thoughts shifted from the attack to all she was grateful. She thought of how comforting her friends had been this week. Rhi had once again opened her home to her. Yasa had been able to make her smile and Phyrra had made her feel safe. She had immense respect for Phyrra and felt secure whenever she was around. Phyrra, along with Nadia, were insisting Brit learn some kind of self defense. While Brit wanted to be able to defend herself and she wanted to make her friends proud, she doubted that she would ever be able to actually hurt another person. She tossed that last thought to the side and focused, instead, on the enormous amount of gratitude she had for the strong, beautiful women that surrounded her.
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aka - Rhiannon


No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.
-Aesop's fable, "The Lion and the Mouse"

I have only been married once. That was in consequence of a misunderstanding between myself and a young person.
-"Lane" in The Importance of Being Ernest