[Valesse]

Waking just early enough to see the brilliant colors of the rising sun, Valesseka quietly started to put together her pack stealling careful glances at the sleeping Gondorian. If she was careful, she could be a hour or more ahead of the nobleman before he could make his breakfast. Éomeléo could stand some more sleep, she figured, smirking to herself. For his beauty rest and my wealth.

Sneaking small bites of stale bread, Valesseka hurried northward away from the river and out into a vast field billowing like the angry waters of the sea. The wind had picked up noticably as she ventured into the plain, which made the burning sun more tolerable. It'll be a shame if that Lord goes a different way... She huffed, hair blowing down in her face, forcing her to quickly forget about her previous thought. With a growl she man-handled it back behind her ear just in time to be hit with a blast from Manwë.

"Gracious!" She gasped, the wind was taking a turn for the worst, and walking was starting to become more laborious than it should have to be, especially with her sail of a skirt. To add insult to injury she could feel her precious face burnning with the intense gales of wind, so the girl hastily pulled her wool shawl over her head and close to her cheeks. Relieved for a moment that she would be able to save her complexion from the elements, Valesseka sighed and continued further into the plain. But her relief was short lived.

Surging again, a mighty gust forced the Arnorian to check her balance, and in the process carried off her shawl. Valesseka squawked loudly and chased after the run-away article as fast as the terrible wind would allow. Just out of reach each time she bent down, or tried to pin it with her stave, the shawl took to the air, then tumbled across the ground only to be tossed in another direction. Valesseka became more and more infuriated at the thought of loosing what would be one of her capes. There are mountains coming! Mountains! I -need- this shawl! I can't give it up! She also knew the longer she chased it around the plain, the longer Éomeléo had to catch up with her... or that the other adventurers had to get toward that treasure, and this, simply, was unexceptable.

Swallowing hard, Valesseka pulled her throwing axe off of her hip and waited for the shawl to tumble on the ground again. Wincing as she did, Valesseka threw the axe soundly onto the shawl, making an alarming gash across a corner, but none the less pinning it to the ground. Mournfully she pulled the axe off of the shawl and put it back on her hip before examining the damage. It would be alright... if one could ignore the gash... scoffing at her own impulsive rescue, Valesseka carefully wraped the shawl around her head and shoulders before pinning it to the rest of her attire with her prized brooch.

Valesseka was sure this meant that she earned herserlf an good sound meal, though cursed that the wind and her poor packing ensured that this was impossible. She would have to settle for jerky.