Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne » Places

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          Doriann has barely obtained his precious, wonderful food. For free as well. Milk, and bread. In all honesty, the food was wonderful, better than any he had had in weeks, to say the least. He at voraciously, starving to the point that the sudden ingestion was almost too much for his fatigue and shrunken stomach to stand. He had to choke down the food, and tears as well, or else they would both come to the surface. The screams from outside were lost to him, due to his concentration, however, now more than ever, he was hearing them.

Especially after the armed and armored man stepped into the shout, raising an alarm. He felt fear rise in the back of his throat, replacing the rebellious food. This couldn't be happening. The city was supposed to be his refuge for just a while, and now, fate was once again throwing his ideas out by the wayside in reward for more chaos. He smelled the smoke. He felt the heat. He quickly followed the woman who had fed him, having no other idea of where to go for now. Doriann did not know the geography well enough to find his own way. And even if he did, or even if he wanted to help, how could he? He was weak, unarmored, with nothing but ideas and a notched, nearly broken wood cutter's axe. Useless.

However, these were all back ideas to the current situation. Right now, it was all about survival. Part of him wanted to run past the children, but...he suppressed those thoughts. They did nothing to earn his ire, and he should not take his frustration out on them. No, he was better than that..."Pray tell, to where is this group headed in its haste?"