You Sweet Fool

Vervain had left well enough alone, but it had been too long even for her. She had heard - oh, of course she had heard, and then some - but she'd never expected to be in the sort of situation where she was consoling her former son-in-law over her daughter. Her absent daughter. She knew Ashetta would be in the woods. Call it a mother's instinct or a hunter's instinct - she simply knew. The Rathskeller wouldn't be opening for a few more hours, Remi (thank the gods) seemed to be getting back on his feet and Devrum was wild as the wind, which was as she preferred him. So Vai turned her attention to her errant daughter. Leaves crunched underfoot as she walked, dressed in her leathers and furs with her bow in her hand and an arrow already prepped. For all intents and purposes she had made it look as though she absolutely wasn't there to find Ashe, instead prowling the woods to find game to kill and serve at the tavern. She wasn't waiting long. The arrow sailed through the air, hitting its mark with ease, and the pheasant ceased its flapping as the huntress took its life. Perfect. Vai approached the creature, reaching down to retrieve her arrow to use again. vervain face the wind