Again I find myself staring at the strange lines in my hand. "Marked" she called it, like the serpent shaped birthmark she had herself. My head is telling me to move on, keep traveling, leave before I am made to leave, like my clan was made to leave so many times. But there is something in this strange place that makes me hessitate agains my better judgement. I can't go further North without entering Cimmeria and this may be as close as I can come to being near "home", however empty that notion is for me. I can't get close to anyone, but that won't be a problem here. I still wonder if I should try to solve the riddles that have surounded my life as long as I can remember. I was warned not to, but this half excistance, this running from living is hard to bear.

I can feel there is something here, I'm drawn to the large building on the hill. Going there could be a path of no return, but leaving here... I might lose the chance of getting answers.

I put my glove back on, going back to being just one of many seeking refuge in a place where no one should want to be. Again I put off making a choice.