’ Inga spat into the empty room. Before slamming the door and following her mother. The silence stretched between them, as they waited before drawin... breath. The fear that they were standing right outside the door rang strong through both of them as Varin gently released his hold on Anika, and poked his head around the tapestry. ‘It’s alright now Anika,’ he whispered, ‘We will get out of here. I know where we can go.’ Picking up a small satchel, Varin packed what was left of Anika’s. Mainly the man calling the younger voice a slut, the younger feminine voice calling him a fat drunk lazy prick. This time was no different. Except this time, the door burst open and the bearer of the younger feminine voice came stomping out. She was easily my age and very pretty. Flaming red hair, pale skin dotted with freckle with almost a tomboyish figure. He hair was in pigtails and she wore daisy duke denim shorts, a tied off top and was wearing what would be called shit-kicker boots. Fuck. More

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