The silence within her home match the silence of catacombs, even her breath borderlined the threshold of her exceptional hearing. In her hands appeared to be a simple white letter, wrinkled in corners from her anxious movements in the midst of her thoughts. Sitting on the edge of her bed, the corners of her eyes were red, not from fallen tears, but tears that never fell.
"What words of yours will answer all of my questions, Erin?" She asked outloud on a sigh, still studying the parchment in her hands.
She had thought her moments of shock were over, and she was proven wrong tonight.
She had thought her short-lived encounter with slavery was over. Wrong wrong wrong, she thought, pressing her lips together as she continued to fiddle with the corners, not yet ready to open the statements left inside.
Erin had spoken of trouble, but never this.
A hint of a sarcastic smile played on her lips, recalling her intentions of wandering to the Inn tonight was to perhaps catch Erin or Lydia, in the easy companionship of her friends. And instead, she was greeted with Erin being pushed down by her hair to the ground by her owner; whom she had only seen on rare ocassion.
The scene was sheer lunacy.
Not that there was anything that she could have done, her thoughts traveled as a smirk came to her face. Not in a public place, not acting on emotional impluse, and definitely not out of ignorance. At least Sylvia had managed to keep the front of her mind away from the scene with pleasant conversation. She would do nothing until she knew more.
Which brought her attention down back to the letter. Waiting no longer, she sighed and gently ripped on the folded paper to reveal what was inside.
"What words of yours will answer all of my questions, Erin?" She asked outloud on a sigh, still studying the parchment in her hands.
She had thought her moments of shock were over, and she was proven wrong tonight.
She had thought her short-lived encounter with slavery was over. Wrong wrong wrong, she thought, pressing her lips together as she continued to fiddle with the corners, not yet ready to open the statements left inside.
Erin had spoken of trouble, but never this.
A hint of a sarcastic smile played on her lips, recalling her intentions of wandering to the Inn tonight was to perhaps catch Erin or Lydia, in the easy companionship of her friends. And instead, she was greeted with Erin being pushed down by her hair to the ground by her owner; whom she had only seen on rare ocassion.
The scene was sheer lunacy.
Not that there was anything that she could have done, her thoughts traveled as a smirk came to her face. Not in a public place, not acting on emotional impluse, and definitely not out of ignorance. At least Sylvia had managed to keep the front of her mind away from the scene with pleasant conversation. She would do nothing until she knew more.
Which brought her attention down back to the letter. Waiting no longer, she sighed and gently ripped on the folded paper to reveal what was inside.