Haha normally right now I'd be like "two reviews please before updating!" but I'm writing so fast I'm not even really giving you guys a chance... Anyways I hope you guys like it!


Alis woke to an odd burning against her hip. She frowned and looked down. The bleach! She must have rolled over it. It had broken and soaked through part of her tunic. In a panic, she tugged it out of her pocket; over half of it was gone. She struggled to get the tunic off of her and the burning away, rubbing at the bleach. Her eyes flitted around the woods, and she knew the nearest stream was a good half kilometre away. She cursed, and jumped onto her horse, half naked, and spurred him through the trees without even collecting her cloak. She was grateful that she had neglected to unsaddle the horse the previous night.

The trees flew by and the burning in her side grew. She looked down and her side was pink and blotched, shimmering with bleach. Her hands were beginning to burn a little too. The bank of the creek reared up in front of her, and she slid the horse to a halt, jumped off, and dead sprinted straight into the river. She rubbed at her sides and hands, sighing as the bleach left her side. She scrubbed at her tunic, now a mottled color, and grimaced. She must have grabbed a very, very pungent bottle.

She trudged back up the bank, and kicked off her wet boots. She couldn't very well ride in them. She pulled her tunic back on over her head, sitting on a rock to dry. She looked at the bed of sharp rocks on the other side of the river, and realized she hadn't brought a knife to cut her hair. The rocks would make do.

She had the bleach with her now, and there was enough light to do her hair by. She pulled back on her boots to protect her feet from the sharp rocks on the other side of the river and trudged through the water.

She picked up several stones, inspected them, and decided on the sharpest one. When she ran her finger along the edge, it split open the skin on her finger. Good thing she played guitar, she decided; or else she'd be bleeding and she couldn't very well bleach her hair with an open wound on her hand.

She went back to the other side of the river and pulled her boots off again, sitting at the bank where her image rippled in the water. She put the cracked bottle to her right, and ran her fingers through her hair to get out some tangles. She held her hair firm and pushed the sharp edge of the stone against it, trying to make it look neat.

The end result was nothing of the sort. She shrugged; apparently, she'd be nothing more than a farm hand who couldn't afford a barber. Worked for her. She cut it as short as she could within reason, leaving about two or three inches straggling down her neck. She leaned forwards over the water, took a deep breath and stuck her head in, then snapped her head back again, water flying. She squeezed bleach out onto the top of her head, and worked it into her hair. She quickly rinsed it off her hands before it could start to hurt. She watched her reflection, and as the minutes ticked by, her hair lightened.

When it was a light brown, she waded into the mud of this side of the river, and held her breath before going under. She rustled her hair around under the water, getting rid of the residue of the bleach. She came up for air, and waded back. Looking at the water, she grumbled. She hadn't done a particularly good job. It was very uneven in color; some was blonde and some was brown. She decided she liked it anyway, though. Her hair was straighter short, and she had never liked the curls.

She nodded distractedly at her reflection, then stood and walked back to her boots. They were damp, but they'd do for the short ride back to where she'd left her cloak. She grabbed hold of the saddle, slid her right foot in the right stirrup, then swung her left leg over the back of the horse and pulled herself upright. She rolled her shoulders out, and cursed the horse for being so tall. He was a good 16 hands high.

She trotted him back through the woods, easily finding her way back through the rushed careless tracks from the gallop to the river. When she got back to her cloak, Max was gone. She shrugged; it was the way of wild animals. He was in no manner tame, after all. There were a few pink patches; very small and hardly notable; where the bleach had come in contact with her cloak. It wasn't to be expected a farm hand would have a perfect condition crimson cloak in anyway.

Two days. Two days until Will would leave, and she would try to get him to take her with him. Well, she thought, looking up at the sky; only one in truth. Perhaps one and a half. Tonight she would have to steal some supplies and something to pad her midsection with to neutralize her body. Perhaps it would make her look a tad bit bigger, too.

She slid off her horse and sat on her cloak, stretching out her legs and sliding her boots off once more to allow them to finish drying. The night would be long... she may as well get a nap. She leaned back and wrapped her cloak around her, the sun on her face. The horse nickered, and she closed her eyes and fell asleep.


I have some pictures of the characters:

/profiles/blogs/hmmmmm