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She sits in the snow atop the tower, her fellow bandits and the few mages they have paid off are inside, all except one - her watcher.

The chief never fully trusted her so she is followed day and night by a mage. He never speaks to her, no shared tales or stories. Just silence and stares.

Now though, there is a way out. The two of them alone, and finally an exit presents itself. The river by the camp is overflowing, the waters deep and fast flowing.

With any luck, she'll survive the jump. Anything is better than being stuck with a group of cutthroats more likely to kill her than talk to her.

After dusk her freedom will call.

Before the dawn, it will have her answer.