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[Paytience]

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Jet black hair hung straight and true over the left side of her face. Running a hand through it she got up off the edge of the bed and padded across the hard wood floor. The sleeveless undershirt and short pants clung limply to her muscular frame allowing her movements to be unfettered and free. Making her way to the back of the room she put a cautious hand on the wall and felt the stairs creak beneath her weight. The give and take of the wood was a welcome sound against a night that had offerred only stillness.

Hitting an especially noisy board she turned round to check on the figure still firmly entrenched in the sheets. Biting her lip she cussed silently. It was bad enough that one of them was wide awake, let alone both. A roaring snort followed by a low, whistling trill satisfied her that the mustache and it's owner were still mentally stalking the creatures of the abyss.

Up the stairs and across the room she placed a calloused hand on the wrought iron gate and swung it open. Again the settling of metal and friction from the motion could be heard against the silence of the swamp. Putting out a hand to stop its forward momentum she paused before stepping into the garden.

The cool night air caressed the bare skin of her shoulders and she shivered against the chill. Not so much out of temperature, but out of the silence. Here in blackmarsh it seemed as though everything were in slumber but her.