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Oldcastle. Eliza relaxed slightly, comforted by the familiarity of the name. She had never been to the city, but at least it was known to her. She ought to be able to find her way home from here. Somehow.

She jumped, however, at the loud clatter at the door. That most certainly did not sound like a someone. Dog was the first thing that sprang to mind, but neither had the scratching sounded quite like claws. What on earth had she gotten into? Just who was her rescuer? Oh, she had little doubt that he was who he said he was. Or rather, that he had saved her as he had said. It had been difficult enough before she had reached the Ward Tree. By the time she had left, well, it had not taken her too long to lose track of herself.

Oh. Well yes, of course. It would hardly be proper for her to meet anyone dressed in nothing more than a nightgown. Though she could not bear even the thought of putting on a clean gown being as dirty as she was. A bath was in order, first.

Eliza thought she glimpsed pale fur through the doorway when the maid slipped into her room.


At least an hour, a hot bath, a thorough scrubbing, and a slightly painful hair-brushing later, Eliza felt presentable enough to be seen. Though she was hardly an outgoing person herself, the maid had been possibly even more timid than Eliza. She suspected that her initial wild appearance had something to do with it. That, or the faintly glowing totem still nestled in the sheets.

Well. She was clean and dressed now. The damp lent her otherwise uninteresting hair some deep, almost red highlights from its simple pile atop her head. Though they were a little large for her - not difficult - she was glad that the maid had brought a simple pair of shoes with the dress, as well. At least she would not have to wear her ruined slippers.

With a sigh, the young woman stared at the little totem. It was very tempting to bury herself in doubts and self-pity. However, she had at least one person waiting for her, and she owed him a proper explanation, no matter how daunting the task may seem. Now was not the time for reflection. It was also tempting to leave the little thing where it lie, but somehow she could not quite bring herself to do it.

Hesitantly, she stepped closer to the bed and reached out to grasp it, nearly dropping it when she found it to be warm. A shiver ran up her spine and she quickly thrust it into a pocket and hurried out the door, ready to meet her savior and have done with it.

Oh. Well of course she had seen Guardians before - even petted one once. However, she had never seen a Guardian indoors. Certainly not standing in a parlor as though she belonged there. Then again, to be fair, most rabbits were not kept indoors, either, and dear Heather was allowed mostly free range of the manor. So perhaps it was not strange at all that a creature so intelligent as a Guardian was indoors.

Some vague recollection of warm and white and flying through snow flitted through her mind, but it was out of reach before she could fully grasp it.

Eliza started slightly as the man spoke and lowered her eyes with a faint blush. Whatever the thought had been, it was gone, now. She took the proffered seat.

"Thank you," she said. "I am Eliza Winfield," she added, remembering that they had not been properly introduced. Of course, it was improper that she introduce herself, but as there was no one here to make the introduction for her, she saw little choice in the matter. It would be ruder by far to allow herself to remain anonymous.

She fidgeted with the fabric of her skirt for a moment, staring at the food. Under usual circumstances, she might find herself too shy to eat in front of this stranger who had rescued her; however, she was so very hungry. It had been far too long since she had eaten, and she was not accustomed to going without.

Jordun need not be concerned. Eliza could scarcely care less about her father's meetings and business. It rarely concerned her, which would not properly be reason enough for such disinterest on its own. However, her rather uncomfortable relationship with him was certainly ample reason to keep as far away from his affairs as possible to her mind.

When the footman arrived, she could barely refrain from attacking the simple fare like some sort of ravenous beast. It took all of her self-restraint to politely lift the spoon and wait for it to cool. Yet as she moved to raise it to her lips, the doe was suddenly at her skirts, jostling her elbow in the process and nearly causing her to spill the precious food.

Perhaps another lady might screech or scold, but Eliza sat her spoon down and smiled at the doe, petting her a moment. "Driss, is it?" she asked quietly. "You seem a little old to be acting like a fawn," the words were not unkindly said.

Under normal circumstances, she would be more than willing to accommodate the Guardian and forgo food in favor of pets. However... "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm quite hungry. Could you let me eat first?"

"Idriss. A pretty name," Eliza observed. But as soon as the doe moved away, she could not help making a second attempt at her soup. It was much more successful than the first.

As soon as the first drop touched her tongue, she decided that it was the most divine food she had ever tasted. Spoonful after spoonful made its way down to her stomach, and if she were thinking about such things, Eliza might notice that her enthusiasm for eating teetered on the edge of decorous behavior. However, she was far too consumed with acquiring the first real sustenance she had eaten in days. Had she eaten anything while she was walking?

Eliza decided not to think about it. Instead, she focused on draining the bowl in record time and then moving on to her bread.

Eliza spared a smile for the doe between bites, but was otherwise too consumed with eating to offer a proper response. If silence did rule the room while she ate, it did not last long. The bowl was clean quite quickly.

"No, thank you," she replied. Though Eliza was indeed ravenous, her stomach seemed to have shrunk over the course of her unintentional fast. Phantom hunger still gnawed at her, but she did not believe that she could fit any more inside of her...not that it stopped her finishing her bread and nibbling on the fresh tray of fruit.

She supposed she ought to be simply pleased that her rescuer did not seem put off by her...vigorous appetite.

His next words made her pause and lower the strawberry she had been about to eat. Though she had not had much time to think through her predicament, she was, indeed, rather stranded. "I...suppose I could write father," she hazarded. The very thought of it made her wince, made her heart race in fear. What would father think? By the spirits, what would he do if her misadventure put her engagement in jeopardy?

Another thought occurred to her and made her blush furiously. "Though...I do not have any coin to pay for post." Or lodging. Or food. She had no way to pay Mister Kinross back at all. Not until she got home.

She could not meet his eyes.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her head jerking up so that she could stare at him. Eliza hardly knew what to think of the offer. Would it be terribly improper for her to accept? She scarecely knew this man - though even if she did, it would not be appropriate to go anywhere with him unescorted. Of course, nothing about her adventure thus far had been the least bit proper. Yet somehow, perhaps because she was returning to society, it seemed worse to step out of line now.

However, the only alternative was to attempt to send word to her father and then wait for him here. Alone. She shivered. Somehow, spending a little more time in Mister Kinross's thus far pleasant company sounded much more appealing than speaking to her father, even distantly, any sooner than absolutely necessary.

"I..." her eyes flickered down, then back up. "Would you, really?" Was she really considering this?

"...Thank you," she said, and that seemed to be the end of it.

Eliza offered a quiet smile to Idriss, though she was not quite comfortable with the doe's intense interest in the totem. Or rather, it was the totem itself which she was not entirely comfortable with. There could be no question to which "him" Jordun was referring, and this sudden interest on two fronts gave Eliza little choice but to think about the one thing she had been doing her best to avoid dwelling upon. There was a totem in her pocket.

It at once repulsed and attracted her. The idea of running away was indescribably appealing, though Eliza could not say exactly what it was about the situation that frightened her so. There should be no cause for alarm. Every Guardian she had met thus far was pleasant enough, if a little spirited. She had even dreamed of having such a companion for herself. What should she have to fear?

Perhaps it was the strength of the compulsion that was so disturbing. Nothing should draw her so inextricably that she lost all sense of self. Nothing should hold such sway over her heart and body. Yet she wanted nothing more than to hold and nurture that totem she had risked her life for. The insistence with which she felt that need was terrifying. Such caring should be a natural choice, not an inescapable demand.

"What do I do?" she pleaded, not really realizing that she was all but ignoring his question. "I feel like a woman possessed. Is that normal?" How did other Chosen deal with it? They hadn't seemed like they were at all distressed about their bond, nor had they seemed obsessed with the well-being of their Guardians. What if there was something wrong with her or her Guardian? What if their bond was warped?