Eating sea biscuits and drinking red rum
#17
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She could not explain the strange bravery; some part of her had merely told her that it was her only chance, and she had taken it. Perhaps there was also a sense of wishing to prove herself - she was so aware of her fear, especially of an animal that was supposed to be her subordinate - for goodness' sake, other wolves rode on their backs - and she had to live with herself, after all. Maybe, too, there was an odd desire to prove herself to onlooking eyes. There wasn't much her light frame was good for at the moment, other than that kind of athletic clambering. Her mind was racing, reviewing her actions. Had she been utterly stupid, or impressive? She couldn't see Denver at first, and then a white hand came out of nowhere and whisked her to a safe distance. He had been there all along, and the dark-eyed girl would never show it, but she was pleased he hadn't left her to her silly coat-rescuing escapade. Crazy, in his words, in fact. "Perhaps, but did it not work?" she retorted. "I will guide you to the hotel now." She assumed that was what he meant by the aforementioned castle - the towering building was the only one such that she knew.

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