Walk with Shadows

Fluke

'She is going to be at the fishery.' Her thoughts were extremely focused on the task at hand. Anything to take it off the lands that haunt her waking moments. She hadn't wanted to even go into Riften, there were some vague memories there. Bringing him up would have one of two outcomes. She would run for the hills away from her past, or she would embrace her former actions and once more fall into a calm state of cold blood, destroying everything in her path. at least she was alone. She would be able to feel any one of them tailing her after spending so long with each of them her 'unique skill'.

It was still mid day as she got to the side of the city. The docks creak under the weight of more than just her. Gweneith shrinks down, feeling that people were overlooking her as always, which was now a blessing. She steadied her breathing through the difficulty of doing so in this armor. Festus had enchanted the boots and gloves, which seemed to work better than just her normal act. Finding the woman was not hard. Beggars were always prone to being loud and drawing attention to themselves. Something she is used to hating within others. As a person passed she had pulled to the side railing of the dock, able to catch the planks behind her. She had to briefly dip into the water to access this part, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints. Her eyes rolled slowly. Veezara did warn her that she would make some mistakes, no matter how good everyone thought she was. His words were not to worry about it but the woman doubted any of them did something like this. It was a story perhaps they could laugh at later, or it was one she might be berated over. Either way, it already happened and there were no instantly apparent reason for her to fret over it.

Her nerves were plucked as if she were a new lute housed at the bard's college. Any one of the others would see this as a light exercise and not even a job. As the person finished passing without glancing her way, she wondered exactly how much this was helping the family. Her wandering mind needled the contact payment amount as well as what kind of person would pay to have a beggar killed. They aren't long for this world in the first place, so what was the point? Her mind focused on business, forsaking all interpersonal conflict visa via the question of why. She continued on, noting that the person who passed didn't notice her, at least not in any way that drew their actual attentions.

Finding the beggar after the soul searching on the docks of Riften was not easy. She was distracted at say the least, still shaking at times due wholly to the setting. She did find the woman, sitting off the side and kicking her feet lazily. Crouching as she backed up into the shadows of the fishery house, in one smooth motion she pulled her bow and notched an arrow. The excitement and anxiety swallowed her like a blanket. She had to steady her breath so much that she held the bow drawn far too long. Her muscle ached all the way up her arm in near shooting pain. Everything swooped down on her all at once as Gweneith was watching her target. That voice deep inside her soul questioned things she wasn't meant to question. No matter what she thought, Astrid needed this done. She was counting on her to help provide for the family, no matter how little it was. Astrid was clearly using her, but the woman also introduced her to her family. An actual family. The blanket was swept away, her eyes refocused and she exhaled slowly. The dock creaked behind Gweneith and without her agency her body let the arrow fly. Her eyes widened, looking back to her without even confirming the kill, skin jumping in the spike of fear someone approaching had given her.

The arrow was true, Gabriella made sure they sharpened each other's aim. When the woman fell into the railing, iron arrow in her heart from the back the man approaching stopped in his tacks. She stared at him, covering her mouth to stuff the surprised sound back into her gullet. Her brows were both lifted pretty high, watching as the man was putting it together. Worst of all, she found he was a guard. Her vision blurred in the quick tears that came. She instantly thought back to Reyda and Fenrald. 'I... was just lucky. No. Not lucky, I was quite literally not myself when it happened. Astrid was wrong, there is no use for me.' In her current state it was entirely impossible for her to keep as still as she needed. Her hand slipped and a whimper escaped. The guard looked into the shadows, right at her. She was pinned. He was staring directly into her instead of through her. "Hey!" His voice boomed enough to rattle her shoulders and in the split seconds that seemed to move them into slow motion. One piece of advice stuck out more than the others within her family. No matter how fucked you think you are, run. Arnbjorn didn't seem to care much for her. He was upfront about it but the man gave her the best advice he could and she would thank him for it, in her own way later in life, somehow. She dropped the bow and turned on her heel, pushing off with the ball of her foot. "Stop!"