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The crow continued to stay on Renna's tail, it's eyees watching her every foot step. Any time it started to lag behind, it beat its wings faster, aided by the smal amount of power Crow had allowed it.

Renna lay curled up asleep in a pile of leaves. What had been the fire ouside was now a cold pile of ash and the moon was sinking toward the horizon. A sudden chill brought her out of her dreams. She sat upright, ears straining in the darkness. She could've sworn she heard something when she'd awakened. Something didn't feel quite right.
Renna slipped her boots back on and re-armed herself before peeking out the small cave's entrance. She couldn't see into the dark very well, but she knew something, or someone was out there. She heard a noise comming from directly in front of her. An arrow whizzed right past her head as she pulled herself back inside. ~Bandits?~ she wondered. ~ No...not bandits...they'd have been noisier. Bandits use fear as their tactic, not stealth. Assasins, maybe... But who'd want to kill me?"
She grabbed the thin travel blanket she always carried with her, and threw it over her head and torso to hide the lighter colors. Sitting at the very edge of the cave, she unsheathed her blade and held it out just enough to see the reflection of two men clad in grey emerging from the foliage. There was no way out and she was outnumbered.

The crow had fallen far behind, and completely lost sight of Reena. It turned back and reported its failure to Crow. "It's alright." Crow grabbed a bag and dropped his sketch pad. with the attack already sketched onto it. "I have a trip to make anyway." He started out along the road, heading towards an old, familiar spot, into the dying sun.

Renna shot up from the spot where she'd been sleeping. Hot tears rolled down her face and her breath came in as shallow gasps. It had been nearly a year since she'd dreamed of that day. She bent over burying her face into her knees and focused on breathing, drawing her mind away from the nightmare.

Crow continued along his way, keeping his eyes and his hat low. Each passing bystander had probably been a victim at one point or another. A victim of his former cruelty. He avoided many groups of people though every so often, when he passed a theatre troupe, he would stay and talk a while. He would always hold a special place in his heart for the street people. Back in Nir-al-dat, they were the ones who had first accepted him for who he really was, besides his father. As he was layign down one night, a young boy crept up from the troupe's camp, and began digging through his bag. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Crow muttered, his hat still low over his face. The boy tensed and ran back to his camp. Crow watched him go, then noticed that he was carrying a black rose. Crow grabbed his bag and headed after the boy, dodgin hrouhg the trees after him. He appeared in the clearing seconds after the boy held up th black rose as an offereing to the leader of the troupe. "I would hope that you teach your boys to be a better theif." The man looked up at him. He was old and haggard, and wrinkles ran across his face. "Tell me, do you still play the violin?" Crow smiled and hefted a case out of his bag. "Where do you think the boy got that rose?" He embraced the man who had once been a director who had floated through his kingdom. " You know, you still have yet to tell me your name." Crow smiled again. "As you have yet to tell me yours." The man smiled. "Very well. I will let you travel with us, as long as you promise to play us a song." Crow opened his case. "For the record, how do you know where I'm going?" The man smiled knowingly. "Not everyone is so good about disguising their eyes." Crow laughed and began to strike up a song, picking a chord. And then he played. The tune sang of the dangers held at Ardun Lake, the triumph of saving a life, the sadness of old memories. It sang of anger at th demon, and of worry for the girl's current condition. It told of the humor of the brother, with the bittersweet undertone of his resentment. He ended the song on one long low note, stretching it across the entire camp. The man nodded and handed him back his rose. "And that is why this belongs to you." Crow nodded but then struck up another song, one with a happy, lively tune, that ordered everyone to dance. Severl people produced flute and drums and played along with him, keeping rythmn as best they could. The old danced with the young, the fat with the thin, and people of every race began to spin and swirl and dance. And in the middle of it was Crow, playing like a mad man, his violin seeming to glow. He spun and he danced, playing faster and faster, until the other musicians could no longer keep up. e spun and his feet moved in complicated small movements until he was a whirlwind of darkness and sound, spinning around the enire troupe and the entire song ended with a loud shout from the group. Everyone headed to their tents, happy and tired.

Crow and the theatre troupe awoke early the next morning, packing away the tents, and moving on their way. The emperatures soon grew cold, but Crow was almost unaffected in his heavy coat. After several miles he turned to the leader of the troupe. "I'm afraid here is where I must part ways with you." The man nodded. "It would seem only right. Keep a sharp eye. We wouldn't want you to be killed," He lowered his voice so only Crow could hear. "Your highness." Crow smiled. "How long have you known?" The man smiled. "Ever since you played that first solo back in Nir-al-dat." The man smiled and began to lead his troupe away. Crow laughed and took out his violin, playing them a farewell.