335Out of Character text
Keldava tried to arch her back gentle, wincing at the movement tugged on the scabs hanging through her fur. She sent a quick look over her shoulder, scowling at the ugly red mass poking through her fur and fighting the temptation to scratch them off again; experience during a period where the wound had itched had taught her that no good would come from it.
Keldava was roaming slightly farther out today, regaining her confidence the smallest fraction. Of course she was far from completely confident; she was still well within Arte borders and even so was fully armed and armoured; shin and forearm guards tightly fastened, her knives – one strapped to her waist, the other to her right forearm – and quiver present and her bow slung over her back. Combined with her nervous behaviour as she roamed about and Keldava looked more equipped for a battle or hunt than just wandering about the territory.
It was nearly two weeks since she had been attacked and Keldava was still crippled with fear at even the slightest sign of aggression from anybody, even if it wasn’t directed at her! Logically Keldava knew that no Arte member would dare hurt her – Mahnaya would tear them apart and she doubted Skye or Talesin would be very happy with someone attacking a child – she still practically quivered in fear when someone’s attention was directed at her. Knives were the worst; the mere sight of a knife in any hand except her own terrified Keldava now and more than once she had fled from the home because somebody had picked up a knife to cut some food or for some other task, not realising they were scaring her.
And why should they? It was ridiculous that Keldava was scared of her own family. Her family would never hurt her, to think otherwise was inconceivable but still she cowered away from them. With a frustrated sigh Keldava started walking again, picking a random direction and trying to walk off her stress.
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