Eve was relieved when Mr. Wester turned away from her. Watching him mourn felt too personal and invasive. The picture of the little boy in his grave would be etched in her memory for some time. Children casualties were rare and hard to acknowledge. Witnessing the burial had a sombering effect on Eve as well. Though she hid it from the Drakos El leader she had forgotten how to breathe. The pressure on her chest was like a restricting vise; distracting and paralyzing her in her tracks. Fortunately it wasn't long before she regained feeling in her legs.
“Why did you take me here?” Eve demanded once her voice returned to her. She stole a glance at the Wester man and instantly regretted it His tears were reminiscent of the horrible intensity of the situation. Though in that moment the man had seemed more human and less rigid. (Not that she particularly cared about Wester's demeanor one way or another).
After a moment it was abundantly clear Wester was going to ignore her question. Eve announced that she was going to ready her steed and ride ahead of the Drakos-El with her tribe. She wanted nothing more than to distance herself from the devastation in the Drakos El territory. As she left to retrieve her horse moisture prickled in her own eyes. She wiped a stray tear away quickly before anyone could notice
At the recovery tent the other healers were packing up their equipment as there was nothing more they could do for the injured tonight. Some of the victims were already on their feet well into recovery, while others had more intensive injuries that would take some time to reverse. Eve waited for the Fregurds to pack up any essentials that hadn't been burned in the fire. By the time the caravan took off for Fregurd the Drakos El and Mr. Wester were within close proximity to the healers.
For Eve the ride was a strenuous one as she had been voyaging to and fro all day, but she didn't dare complain. It would be petty and futile to resist the fast pace of the Caravan because her muscles ached. At least she was in one piece, and uninjured for the time being. Wagons made up the tail end of the caravan; carting the injured, though not all would live to see their destination
Hours into the night the Caravan arrived in Fregurd. By that time Eve's leg muscles were so stiff that she needed a hand down from her saddle. Eve was comforted with the return to her own lands. Sleeping in her own cabin and bunking in her own bed was a rare luxury.
Asburro's men greeted the caravan at the drawbridge that led to Fregurd's citadel. Immediately cabins were assigned and the injured were led into the small building that served as a station for the ill and injured.
Eve was relieved of her assignment for the evening. Her eyes drifted to the cabin adjacent to hers. It had been vacant for almost a year,; since Madox's death in a rare and unexpected raid on Fregurd.
Selfishly she prayed that nobody would take refuge in this cabin. The thought of someone touching his possessions and sitting on his bed drove her insane. It was an odd obsession, one that everyone else overlooked, but every night spent in Fregurd Eve made a point of checking in on the cabin to make sure nothing had been moved not even a fraction of an inch. Everyone in the tribe was careful to respect her wishes of the cabin. Surely it would be preserved for Madox's memory. There were plenty of other cabins for the guests to occupy. Most likely they had been asked to stay away from Madox's hut. With that thought in mind Eve would rest easier.