Kaitlyn groaned as she lay beside the now dying fire. She'd have probably groaned in embarrassment if she could witness herself rolling over and making a shallow attempt to scratch various places.
She found herself roaming the alleys of some small village, undoubtedly in the early days of her solo 'adventuring'. She felt terrible pain in her stomach. She distinctly remembered that terrible pain, but it was definitely hunger, which she would soon become rather accustomed to. This searing pain, which felt very much as if her stomach wanted to release itself from the confines of her body, was new, and something she would look back on with memories that were far from fond.
She glanced up at clear, golden-hued skies. Evening was approaching in the village of Berry Glade. It had been days without a proper meal or adequate rest, inducing a state in which anything that didn't take 'noticeable effort' would seem like a good idea.
The memories flowed, even more clearly now than when she'd actually lived it. It was 8 unsteady steps, now 7, until she'd turn. moved according to memory, the only difference being the type of pain in her stomach.
She trudged along, taking the same right turn she remembered, leading her into the market. This was more of a mistake than she could have ever anticipated, even with hindsight. The sights, sounds, and scents of food all mingled with what should've been hunger pangs.
Her memory told her what was coming. She found herself walking along the edges of the slightly crowded street, drifting ever closer towards the food stalls. Her heartbeat quickened, breathing shallowed, and she felt a cold sweat as she involuntarily contemplated the risks. Before she knew it, her hand was reaching out towards a bunch of yellow-horn fruit, specifically at one that was separated from the bunch. Truth be told, she'd never actually liked yellow-horn fruit, but in her exhaustion and hunger-induced delirium, anything that she recognized as food seemed appetizing.
As her hand reached closer, far slower than she remembered, and as her breathing became quicker and she was on the verge of tears. Then she felt tremors. Those were new, or at least not native to her memory. The tremors were slightly rhythmic and moved through her like waves, like... being shaken. She blinked and found herself running through a forest, single-mindedly running to survive. She dared not look back, but she could've sworn she heard someone call a variation of her name that she understood, but wasn't used to.
"Miss Kate? Miss Kate?!"
She was running for her life in something betwixt a dream and a memory, and even still, she could feel an eyebrow arching in annoyance at the irksome way she'd been called. "That assassin..." she found herself grumbling. The tremors had subsided, and she found herself in a run-down room in an inn. Across from her, resting at a desk, was a man who seemed familiar and was more handsome than she'd have cared to speak aloud. She gazed upon his sleeping figure for a moment before she could hear his voice in her ear. Confusion set upon her momentarily as the voice, which she remembered, came from right beside her. It was pleasant, but tinged with worry. Logic attempted to catch up to the dreamlike state she was in, as she looked across the room, which had at some point become a bar.
"Miss Kate?"
Still right beside her, just above her ear. She shivered and glanced that way, yet there were only faceless tavern-goers several arms' length away. Around her there was commotion, and the beginnings of what would assuredly turn into a brawl. She saw a mug of something flying past her, and her face became wet. It felt more real than everything else except the stomach ache that had yet to completely subside.
Things kept happening around her. Shouts grew louder, tables flipped, and chairs thrown. She found herself exiting the tavern right after the sounds of swords being drawn, all the while, the now 2 constant feelings of stomach pain and a wet face caused dissonance between their vividness and that of everything else she was experiencing.
Everything came to a head as her surroundings changed yet again, leaving her atop a donkey, and with a belly far more round it was moments ago. This was... almost fine. The real problem cam when her breathing suddenly stopped. Her air was cut off, both through her mouth and nose. She tried to gasp, and ended up flailing helplessly, before falling off of the donkey.
She never made it to the ground, or.. more aptly, had never left it. Her eyes flew open to see Emil gently holding her nose and mouth shut. Escape was all too easy. She got up as fast as she could and put as much distance between them as she could manage.
She glared daggers at him, and growled with flaming spheres at the ready, "Decided to finish the job after all!?"
She stared him down, though he made no move against her, and had no weapon. Only his left eye was glowing, and it soon faded. "If I wanted you dead, you never woulda got the chance to wake up..."
Kaitlyn paused in thought, then... what were you doing, and why is my face wet?!" Water, or so she hoped, dripped down her nose. "...What... did you do, assassin?"
"I woke you up. You lookrd like youwere having a bad dream, and seemed to be in pain, so..."
"...And?" Shd hissed.
"Well, shaking didn't work. Calling your name didn't work, and small amounts of water didn't work, so I used the method that always works. If I knew you were this angry with being woken up I'd have bit my lip and let you suffer..." He shrugged, "How's your stomach?"
What way to woke up and how she reacted, I rather enjoyed this chapter.