A/N: Hello peoples. The last chapter was a fail so, hopefully, in this one my creative juices will be flowing and it'll be better…*sigh* or not. A bit pessimistic, but, it's the truth. – Raven.

The rain fell steadily for the next week, caravans became bogged easily and the children were always muddy. The horses became skittish as their senses were filled with rain and damp, and when the horses freaked so did the men, they saw ghouls around every corner and during the night spirits lurked near the outskirts of the camp, ready to frighten women and steal their kids.

During that week I thought much about what Ari had said about marriage, and maybe I should get married, I mean, what was stopping me? I wrote down a list of all the men eligible for marriage in our troupe, in the end all the names were crossed off. All seemed to have major flaws that couldn't be fixed. They were either too serious, never took me seriously, too old, too young or too…eww.
I knew it was inevitable that I'd be forced to marry and only by a stroke of fate would a perfect guy come along, but marrying someone in the band would be like marrying a cousin or brother. I know that that happens in other troupes, but it's looked down upon in ours. Unless the relation is really distant, keep the money in the family and all that….

"Des, what is your problem?" Ari had her hands on hips and glared at me, "Were you even listening?"
I blinked and yawned, "Sure, sure," I said waving her away, "Fix the caravan door, and fill up the water jugs. I'll do it, just hold on." Stretching, I heard my bones crack.
A deep laugh echoed through the van, "Turning into an old lady Despina?" Arianne's husband, Bran, walked through the broken door. He filled the doorway dwarfing everyone he came across. Bran's skin was the colour of polished wood, his teeth were white and straight and he was always kind and generous. Bran was the violinist in the Wayless folk, as was his father before him; his music was beautiful and could make the most heartless of mankind cry.

In many troupes it is customary for children to take the jobs of their parents, daughters after the mothers and sons after the fathers. Although this is not always the case, Titanna is our weapons-master just like her father, as she shared his passion for anything sharp and dangerous. I will be a singer like my parents and Ari will, after her children grow a bit, look after others children, just like her mother. Sometimes the roles we play are set for us, some things we cannot change. Although I don't mind the idea of singing for the rest of my life, I don't like my future set in stone, I don't like not being able to choose my own path, the direction in which I want to run. Mama always says that some things are better not to be fought against; swimming with the river is easiest, it will take you where you need to go in life. I suppose this brings my thoughts in a circle, if I do not fight against being married to someone who is chosen for me, my life will be easier. I will marry a man, have many children and die a singer. Never fully living because I didn't push the boundaries of the troupe, I will never have ventured far enough to meet fey folk, trolls or ghouls, I would be safe for ever.

"Goddess, Despina! Fix the door already, don't stare out the window at the rain. Good grief girl, I am constantly wondering how you ever survived infancy!" When a pillow hit my face I got off the floor. Fixing the door was easy, the hinge had come off and all I had to do was screw it back on, carrying heavy water jugs is another matter entirely. Rain pelted me in the face and the wind tossed my hair around. Carrying the jugs to the river's edge I filled them with water and slowly made my way back. A man's shout brought me out of my daydream.

A horse had started at the sound of the thunder and was straining against the ropes tethering it to a caravan. Three men were trying to subdue it, but it was no use when the lighting flashed across the sky, the stallion reared, breaking the bonds holding him. Dropping the jugs I ran to help and managed to grab the rope still around its neck as it ran past me. After a few steps I was able to clamber onto his back and rein him in. As the men reached me, the stallion's eyes were wild, as I continued to pat his neck as the three men roped him up again.
"Hey, thanks Despina. Anselmo would have had our heads, had this one run off. So, thanks." Wiping the rain from my face, I smiled at Patrick. He was on my list, but his obsession with horses was too strange.
"That's okay. Does Anselmo like this horse or something?" A second later I felt like an idiot, the horse was being tied to Anselmo's caravan…..
"Stupid…"
"What? I can't hear over this rain!" Patrick yelled in my face as yet more rain poured down on our heads.
"Nothing! Talking to myself!" Wiping more water out of my eyes, I could clearly see that Patrick hadn't heard a word I said. Shaking my head I sloshed back to where I had dropped the jugs and headed back to the river to clean off the mud and fill them back up.

On the way there I slipped in the mud and dirtied my only clean dress. Hoisting my woollen shawl higher onto my shivering shoulders, I dragged the heavy clay jugs the rest of the way. It had not occurred to me that the bank of the river would be slippery or made entirely of mud. It had also not occurred to me that leaning over a wet, slippery bank to fill two heavy jugs, near a fast flowing river would be dangerous.
Struggling with the jugs my drenched dress became tangled in my legs, working to free myself I dropped one of them into the fast flowing river. Thankfully it became caught in some tree branches a bit further downstream.

My hair was plastered to my face and every time I opened my mouth rain went inside. I attempted to bring in the jug with a stick nearby; this only pushed it further away. I yelled in frustration, Ari would kill me if I lost the jug, as we wouldn't be given another one. Kneeling in the mud I hoisted my dress up so I wouldn't trip on it again, extending my arm my finger tips just grazed the rim of the jug. Shuffling forward half an inch, my whole torso was leaning out above a raging body of water, wiggling my fingers I almost had it. Placing all my support on my knees and balancing with one hand, I leant over further. Before I realised, my left hand had slipped forward and down the side of the bank and I fell head first into the furious waterway.

All around me was a churning brown, I tumbled through the water, hitting my head and back on rocks submerged in the torrent. With my arms floundering, my head broke the surface and I gasped for air, as I was soon pushed under again. Kicking my legs out I sought for the riverbed and found it. Pushing up, my arms slapped the water and a shin collided with a branch. My lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen and it was all I could do to keep my head above water. I prayed to the water sprite to save me and as I lifted my head out of the water, for what I thought to be the last time, my ears were met with a sickening crack. My forehead had collided with a sharp rock, jutting out of the water. Clutching it, I raised my hand and brushed the water and blood from my eyes, my vision swam before me, a darkness closed in on my sight. The last thing I remember was the sound of rain hitting the surrounding river.

A/N: *phew* I hope that's okay…..now to think of something else to happen. Because I never plan these stories, I wing everything. Ta ta for now folks. Merry Christmas!