Post by Anastasia on Feb 2, 2013 7:36:43 GMT -5
It had seemed like ages since she had any company. They had all been moved around again, to avoid anyone conspiring together to escape, something which was proving to be a bit of nuisance since she was attempting to create her own escape plans. So far all of them had been thwarted with each move and so she had to return to the drawing board. She had the pins, that was at least something, they still hadn’t found them never mind attempt to take them off her, so she could escape…she just could not get very far. Every day the struggle was harder, keeping her hopes up, believing she was going to get out.
The other problem was Erikson.
With every fresh batch of prisoners he would take his time looking them all over, one by one, and every time he would select a few of them, always the prettiest. Anya had never considered herself much of a beauty but the red hair did have a tendency to stand out and was unusual enough that perhaps the man might take a shine to it. Which was why every time he came around she would to her best to blend in with the surroundings, using whatever she could get her hands on, usually mud. The fear was still there. She saw those girls leave and every now and then she would catch glimpses of them as the wandered by through the tents. They were dressed beautifully yet not with much, but it was the haunting look on their faces she feared most.
She had to get out.
Looking around to make sure the coast was clear she slipped out of the pins and began to work on the chains.
The other problem was Erikson.
With every fresh batch of prisoners he would take his time looking them all over, one by one, and every time he would select a few of them, always the prettiest. Anya had never considered herself much of a beauty but the red hair did have a tendency to stand out and was unusual enough that perhaps the man might take a shine to it. Which was why every time he came around she would to her best to blend in with the surroundings, using whatever she could get her hands on, usually mud. The fear was still there. She saw those girls leave and every now and then she would catch glimpses of them as the wandered by through the tents. They were dressed beautifully yet not with much, but it was the haunting look on their faces she feared most.
She had to get out.
Looking around to make sure the coast was clear she slipped out of the pins and began to work on the chains.
