Word Count → 211 :: Backdate this to...Jan 27th? :o
Ariadne had once again wondered back to the festival grounds to try and sate her boredom and morose attitude. She was good at finding temporary distractions, but so far she hadn't found anything that could occupy her mind long term. Her thoughts were constantly turning back to Crete and all that had been taken from her by Damianos in spite. Her anger towards the man was constantly simmering under the surface, violent images of the tortures her imagination concocted for him filling her mind's eye.
Perhaps it was the unrequited need for revenge that had drawn her to the sparring grounds one of the local packs had set up at the festival. A large wolf presided over the grounds, helped the few individuals who had also come here seeking knowledge about self defense and combat. The Cretan hybrid stood on the sidelines, observing for the moment. Ariadne had a very basic knowledge of self defense, feral really. Most of her life she had had more than enough men around her to protect her if she needed it. Now she was more or less alone. Perhaps getting some training in this area wouldn't be a bad idea. Still, for the moment she was a silent watcher, learning by seeing rather than doing.
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