[Wilderness, morning]

Zera cupped a handful of dirt in her right palm, sifting the sleeping
earth through her fingers.

"Damn.  No sign of them at all.  It's like they just vanished."  She
sighed, brushing her hands clean and pulling her notebook out of her
pack.

	~Field Journal, five and a half miles south and~
	~west of Norwall Warren.  All Wraith-sign has  ~
	~disappeared, just as in the other cases.  It  ~
	~is as though they simply appear out of no--

A branch snapped nearby, and Zera's head snapped up.  Amber/brown eyes
met those of a small, startled rabbit.

"You know," she told it,  "if there's wasn't an inn relatively nearby,
you would make an excellent dinner."

The little fluff ball twitched its nose at her and hopped away as she
laughed merrily.  She went back to her journal.

	~is as though they simply appear out of nowhere~
	~move on for a bit, and disappear again.  There~
	~may be a pattern, but I can't seem to see it. ~
	~There's something I'm missing, but I don't    ~
	~know what it is.                              ~

Zera stared at the entry, unsatisfied with her results, but unable to
pinpoint what it was.  Shrugging, she packed the notebook away and
hefted her pack.  The Traveller's Rest wasn't too far away, and, as
she'd told the rabbit, if it wasn't so close, she would have had to go
hunting and find something to cook.


[Traveler's Rest, Late Afternoon]

Zera walked into the Traveler's Rest, trying to ignore the curious
stares that traced the Wraith burns on her cheek.  She'd never been
particularly vain, but it hurt something, deep inside, when a face
that had never drawn a second glance before now was the source of
curiousity and pitying looks.

The tavern keeper looked up at her as she walked in.  Mercifully his
eyes traced over the scars indifferently as she approached the
counter.

"What can I get of you?"

Zera grinned, unaware of how intelligence and vitality transformed her
expression, drawing attention away from her scars to her brilliant
eyes and infectious, even-toothed smile.

"Food, anything that I don't have to cook myself."

"Been out for a long time?"

"Not too long.  A couple of months, maybe."

"Are you nuts?  With Wraith attacks?"

Zera shrugged.  "They're not everywhere."

He went off muttering to himself as Zera took a seat at the counter.
She turned slightly as a man entered the building.  Her eyes traced
over him vague indifference.  Riding leathers...  must be a dragon
rider.  The Inkeeper came back with a bowl of hearty stew and a loaf
of fresh, hot, crusty bread.

She took a bite of it and sighed with rapture.  "Ummmm.   May the Gods
bless and keep you and your cook.  This is wonderful."


[NRPG] --
Tag!  M'lent can come over and harass her at any time.  However, she's
not going anywhere until she's finished her dinner :)

Respectfully Submitted
Jill E. Flansburg
Zera

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			Vasaris, the Fuzzy Dragon
Jill E. Flansburg		    |		vasaris@az.com
CS HMC 1994			    |		jflansbu@muddcs.cs.hmc.edu
History, WWU 199?		    |		vasaris@divcom.umop-ap.com
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