Hestra returned to the caravan. Long before she had reached the clearing where they had set up camp, she could hear the sounds of exuberance and merriment and feel the excitement that pulsated throughout the camp. It was a palpable, tangible thing that could truly only mean one thing. Another band of foolhardy heroes had tracked them down and were trying to persuade the most foolish among them to join their hellish crusade. Hestra hoped that someone would take them up on the offer, of course, as everyone was entitled to medical care; she simply hoped that whatever deals they were attempting to strike up were dealt with quickly. As there was much work to be done in the morning, and she would like to know something more than a modicum of sleep if she was to attend to the sick and needy. She groaned about how hungover and unpleasant the remaining healers would be in the morning. If you must get the healers drunk in order to get them to join your company, then your company is hardly worth keeping. Hestra thought to herself, trying not to look at the dark, sludgy liquid being poured from dodgy-looking bottles that made her want to wretch. Hestra had never been fond of strong drinks; she found they tasted too bitter. (She found she took a liking to cherry wine and honey mead, but that was to be expected, she was fond of sweetness as much as she was spice, and judging from the winces of those who partook in the liquor, it tasted as pisspoor as it looked.) A great raging fire had been lit in the center of the camp, and Hestra could see the would-be heroes sitting all around it, attempting to proselytize her comrades to join them on whatever doomed quests they were about to embark on. It was an interesting-looking group. A mountainous bearded man with scars running the length of his face, dressed in fur. A second, dark-haired bearded man dressed in purple beside him, a few inches between them. His face was unmarred, and his laughter was the loudest. There was a cloaked figure silently sat, hunched beside them. Hestra wondered if they were perhaps unenthusiastic about the whole endeavor. There was a woman in the company as well. She had dark hair and was clothed in silver armor. She was cleaning her sword. Hestra shuddered to think of the creature that had met its end due to the cold, cruel bite of her bade.
Hestra walked past the rowdy bunch to the comparatively quiet outer ring of the caravan where her dwelling sat. She lifted her hand to the latch to enter when, all of a sudden, she felt as though she were being watched. She felt as though someone was behind her, close enough to touch, if only she dared to reach her fingers backward. "Unless you are in need of medical attention, I am retiring to bed." She called out behind her. She could not see much in the dark as far away as she was from the light of the fire, but she could almost have sworn that she saw a flash of bright and brilliant white in the moonlight. Hestra yawned. Whatever it was had surely heard her. If it was an animal, she had either scared it off or would be safe enough in her dwelling regardless. She tried not to think of whatever else it could have been. She brewed herself an herbal tea with honey and drank it while trying to ignore the rising sense of being watched. Stalked, may have been the better word. Hestra set the empty cup down forcefully enough to shatter it. Then she scooped up one of the sharpest shards she could find and then settled down for the night. She did not carry any weapons on her person, on principle, as she became a healer to help and never to hurt. However, self-defense was another thing entirely, and while the shattered shards of a broken teapot may not do much against an assailant, it gave her enough peace of mind to lay in her cot and close her eyes. Listening to the ambient sounds of foolish men laughing riotously until, eventually, the sound lulled her to asleep.
