The Grey Tower

"We'll catch the bugs outside in the gardens, of course.” Avrya sounded awfully confident – it seemed to Muireen that she was no stranger to bug trapping. “If we found a box..." She stopped in the middle of the hallway, then looked to her. "Oh, don't think I wouldn't put bugs in the library, though.” Well, that’s a relief… There’s only so much trouble I’m willing to risk. “I broke into Ravak Gaidin's office to look at his puppies, so I don't think I can sink any lower." The Novice admitted this in the same tone that one would use to comment on the weather. Muireen’s mouth hung agape, and she tried to imagine the Master of Training’s wrath – not only had she broken into his private office, she had touched his prized dogs! "He claims I was stealing them. No sir, I was just borrowing them."

Muireen choked. “B-borrowing them? Avrya, you’re certifiably insane.” But her smile only seemed to grow wider, and she nearly skipped down the halls. Muireen tried to be disapproving, but fortunately for the pair of them, Avyra’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she chatted happily as she lead them through a maze of halls. Muireen wasn’t sure where they were going; the Tower was becoming more and more unfamiliar as they moved.

"So I decided," Avyra said confidently, "To do some unarmed combat. Because I should at least learn that, if I get nothing else out of this place. Well, I'm good friends with one of the Drin, Danos." She faltered momentarily, but quickly resumed her line of thought: "Huge guy. Could snap me in half like a twig. I don't even reach his chest." Avrya laughed lightly, and Muireen felt her stomach sink. I’ve had plenty enough of men for one life time, thank you very much. Infatuation never ended well, and even if she was only just acquainted with Avyra, she did not wish to see her hurt.

"And instead of going to get some formal training I decided to ask him to teach me. That worked out great." Muireen could not quite tell if Avrya was being truthful, but her glowing smile told her all that she needed to know. "And he accidentally broke three of my ribs. Luckily the Yellows healed it easily. But." She chuckled. "That didn't work, but it was fun while it lasted."

“Well,” Muireen said uncertainly, as she did not want Avyra to feel chastised, but she did want to warn her, “You were lucky that your ribs did not snap into your heart. That would not have been so easily fixed. It’s never a good idea to spar with someone that can completely overwhelm you; you learn nothing, and risk a great amount of harm. It’s discouraged in the Yards. We're about the same size,” she offered, "Once I've learned a little more, I'd be happy to spar with you." I almost hope that Ravak Gaidin does ban you from the Yards; Danos should have known better than to toss you like a rag doll!

Just as Muireen had finished speaking, Avyra pushed open a door that looked no different from any of the other doors in this endless hallway, and strode in as if she owned the place. Muireen peered in behind her, and it occurred to her that she did own this place; it was a dormitory, and judging by how familiar Avyra was with its contents, it was her dormitory.

"Anyway," she said cheerfully, ushering Muireen and shutting the door behind her, "What stupid stuff have you gotten into here as of late?" The drin laughed beneath her breath; she had thought that she was quite the daredevil before she had met Avyra.

“Nothing like you,” she said with a grin, “I just like taking extra sticky-buns at dinner. And there was this one time that I set up an inkpot to spill for an annoying Novice that was fond of correcting me in class. But… That’s about it. Putting bugs in a classroom will be my all-time high.” She ran her hand through her hair, tousling her curls. “Have you found a box? And how do we make sure the bugs go in the box?”

"There we go," Avyra said with a triumphant grin, "One box." She turned to face Muireen, looking fit to burst with glee. "Stealing sticky-buns? What a horrible crime." Muireen couldn't help but smile; Avyra managed to tease without being derogatory, and it was a refreshing change from what she usually faced in the Yards.

"Well," she said, "You're only supposed to take one with dinner. I like to have three or four. Mostly for the terrible tea. If you let them soak, you get the honey off of the bun, and it isn't so bland. The only issue is the soggy bread at the end..."

The pair headed out of Avyra's dorm and back towards whatever their destination. The Novice strode ahead confidently, and Muireen was glad to stay in tow - it wasn't as if she had any idea how to navigate all these halls. "I would like to take you up on that sparring offer, though. Thank you." Avyra said. "Well, if we don't get ourselves in horrible amounts of trouble, that is." Muireen snorted, and wondered what actual trouble would be like. She assumed that there would be a penance of some kind, that the Master of Training would be very unhappy to see her mucking around with the channelers...

"Don't jinx us," she said firmly, trying not to consider the possibility of being chucked out of the Yards and forced to go home, "We're not going to be caught. And if we do get caught, we just run. Really fast."

"I actually have to run a message to one of the teachers," Avyra said quietly, "So if anyone asks, that's what we're doing on our way back in here." The drin nodded solemnly. It's always good to have an excuse.... They arrived back at the Gardens quite quickly - it seemed like it had taken less time to get back to where they started than it had to get to where Avrya lived - and it was fairly quiet for this time of day. "Now, you asked how we're going to get bugs into boxes. Well." Avrya looked at the grounds intensely, and Muireen fully expected her to do some sort of phenomenal channeling - and was astonished when she instead dove to the ground and hastily grabbed a cricket. "That's how. Find as many as you can and close the box lid once you put one in."

"You don't have any tricks for this?" she asked incredulously, "It'll take a week to get enough bugs for this. You'll ruin your dress!" Muireen didn't bother mentioning her uniform, as it had already been thoroughly trashed by the elements. Avyra seemed undeterred. Well, if she doesn't mind, neither do I, she thought, and pushed back the sleeves on her shirt. It took about a half hour before the two had a suitable collection of crickets, dragonflies, and various other creepy crawlies; Muireen hadn't had the heart to disturb the fat worm she'd found in the mud, but she did not give the fuzzy caterpillar the same courtesy. They'd even managed to find a little hive of bumblebees.

"Off to Edriene Sedai, then?" She grinned widely, and took the box securely under her arm. None of you are escaping until we're where we need to be. Muireen remembered precisely where the classroom was because of how deeply she had hated attending the lectures - it was difficult to maintain composure as she lead Avyra down the winding halls, but her priority of frightening Edriene Sedai was paramount: a smile would give them away. Not wanting to risk her revenge, she did her best to hide her enthusiasm for mischief. Her boots clicked softly on the white tile, leaving little chunks of mud behind, and she kept her head bowed in the presence of any Tower servants or channelers, relying on Avyra to communicate on her behalf.

The trip there was entirely uneventful. They reached the correct door, and Muireen could feel her heart begin to race - Oh, this is going to be great! - and she carefully pressed her ear against the wood. The classroom was silent as the grave, and if memory served, Edriene Sedai would be back in here within the hour to teach her stupid, backwards ways of doing mathematics. She looked at Avyra, pressed a finger to her lips, and carefully twisted the doorknob so that it wouldn't squeak. Slowly, slowly, she pressed inward, and was careful to keep the box pressed shut tight to her side.

Muireen filed in the classroom, squeezing between the doorway then motioned for Avyra to follow her. She turned slowly towards the front of the room, thinking that she'd leave the bugs near the chalkboard for Edriene Sedai to discover, but stopped dead in her tracks - someone was already there. She was quite petite, somewhere between Avyra and Muireen's size, but she was certainly not their rank. She stared directly at Muireen, grey eyes piercing and cold, and her mouth was pinched into a thin line of dissatisfaction. Muireen risked taking a glance at the desks and her stomach sank when she saw that every single one of them was occupied.

"Might I help you, trainee?" The Aes Sedai's voice was cold and sharp, like a sword straight through her gut - and it suddenly occurred to Muireen that they ought to have checked the class schedule.

"I - uh - I'm just - Aes Sedai," Muireen stammered, and her face heated rapidly. She glanced back towards Avyra, and was pleased to see that the Novice hadn't had the chance to follow her in yet. That much was good, at least. "I have a... delivery? For Edriene Sedai! I thought she'd be in here, but since she isn't yet, I'll just be going-"

"Stay." The commandment was flat, and it felt like ice had settled in her gut. "Unless you happen to have a letter with Master Ravak's personal seal, you've no business delivering anything to an Aes Sedai. Come here." Light preserve me and keep me... Muireen did as she was bid.

Illyria did not particularly want to revisit the ghosts of the past, but the Grey Ajah had been at her heels for near a decade now to share what she knew of Seanchan. The invaders were on their doorstep, and Aes Sedai and Asha'man could not be unprepared to face their enemy, could not be unprepared to know what lengths a sul'dam would go to harm them, and could not be unprepared for the relentless loyalty that their damane had for those that held their leashes. It was unpleasant, but the Grey Ajah assured her that it was absolutely necessary. She had been able to bide her time until the Red Ajah had pressed in as well - with the M'Hael and the Keeper of the Chronicles among their ranks, she had no longer had a choice.

To her shock, once she had announced the course topic and placed a sign-up sheet outside the Mistress of Novice's office, every seat had filled within three days. She assumed that it had been some twisted form of morbid fascination and fear that bolted her students to their chairs, and Illyria was all too happy to be forced to share with them the various joys of life across the Aryth Ocean. She began the first day with the a'dam; it was a necessary evil. If all of her students were too frightened to stay afterwards, they could not possibly benefit from knowing anything about the culture that drove the subjugation, and this would be a complete waste of everyone's time.

"The a'dam," she began in an uncharacteristically cold voice, and drew out a representation of the collar, leash, and bracelet in powdery chalk on the board, "Is a highly specialized ter'angreal. It is believed in Seanchan that all channelers are dangerous and must be kept under complete control. Each year, every young woman in every city, town, village, from the capital of Seandar to the farthest reaches of the empire, is tested for the ability to channel." Illyria stopped, and let the silence punctuate her sentence; the Seanchan had claimed little pieces of the Westlands in the years since she had arrived at the Tower. Women in the Westlands under Seanchan control were undoubtedly tested as well. "Those born with what we call the spark - the innate ability to channel - become damane. In the Old Tongue, it translates to "Leashed One". Those born without the spark, but have the ability to learn to channel, become sul'dam, or "Leash Holders". Seanchan's perception of those who can channel is so dark - so warped - that if it was widely known that the sul'dam, women that are afforded as much honor as any of Seanchan's noble class, if not more, can also wield the One Power with proper training, it would bring about the collapse of the entire society."

She stared coldly at her students and was met only with silence. There were no questions, every quill had stopped scratching at parchment; there was no denying the way that the Old Tongue fell from her lips, the soft slur that still accompanied her when she spoke after all of these years - the usually gentle, demure, and maternal Aes Sedai was gone, and only cold fury had been left in her wake. Memories flashed across her mind - the lightening embroidered dresses that she had worn with so much pride, the callouses on her wrist that had taken a year to disappear, the damane that she had left behind - Illyria had tried so desperately to leave her past behind, and was stuck staring it in the face, publicly peeling back layers for mid-ranks to see.

"Do not ever allow yourself to be captured," she warned in that same, icy voice, "Not even if you think you are freeing a damane; they will not be grateful, nor will they go with you unless you have made sure that they are completely incapacitated. They are broken, conditioned, and see themselves as little more than pets - more likely than anything else, they'll find a way to ensure that you are collared for their safety before they would ever wish for freedom. Sul'dam see breaking their spirits as a refined art; no different than breaking a stallion, no different than training a hound of war. You have no chance of undoing that in what little time you would have to free a collared woman. Even if she seems to have an accent that is not slurred, very, very few women retain their spirit. It takes much more than a deft hand to unlock a collar to free a Leashed One," she said with a sense of finality, "And you will compromise yourself if you make the mistake of believing otherwise. Before I continue, can I be sure that you all understand this?"

Again, she was met with heavy silence, but all of her students were paying rapt attention. She nodded curtly, and turned back to her chalkboard, and began sketching the internal locking mechanism of the a'dam. Twist and pull, she remembered dully, If only it were that easy to undo. She turned away from the chalkboard, prepared to continue her lecture, and was shocked to see a rosy-cheeked, mud-caked drin'far'ji standing in the middle of the room. This was a course that was specifically locked to mid-ranks because of the content; if the girl did not have a very good reason for interrupting, Illyria thought that she might do Ravak Gaidin the favor of flaying her alive.

"Might I help you, trainee?" Her voice cracked like a whip; the girl flinched, and her face flamed.

"I - uh - I'm just - Aes Sedai," the girl tried to stammer her way through a lie, but Illyria had spent far too long dealing with children for her ruse to not be completely transparent. "I have a... delivery? For Edriene Sedai! I thought she'd be in here, but since she isn't yet, I'll just be going-"

"Stay." It took no time at all to return to the days that she had spent of Mistress of Novices, and her voice was hard. She carefully placed the chalk upon her desk to avoid from shattering it into useless hunks in her rage. "Unless you happen to have a letter with the Master of Training's personal seal, you've no business delivering anything to an Aes Sedai. Come here." The girl glanced back at the door, as if she wished she could run, and then tentatively tottered towards her, not unlike Emila did when she knew she had done something very wrong. The girl fumbled with her package, and Illyria could see the fear that blossomed across her face as it dropped to the floor and fell open - and that was the precise moment when all hell broke loose.

A horde of bugs came forth from the inconspicuous package: the students that had been bolted to their seats mere moments before were squawking like chickens that had discovered a fox in their henhouse, the drin'far'ji looked like she was about to lose her breakfast, and the Novice that had tried to convince her that she had a letter excusing them was currently doubled over laughing, with tears streaming down her face. Illyria Malkom Sedai of the Indigo Ajah, previous Sitter, First Seeker, Keeper of the Chronicles, and Mistress of Novices, had never seen anything that could compare to this.

Encased in cold fury, she ignored her screeching students that tried to swat at wasps with their parchment, ignored the sound of shattering inkpots, ignored the sound of the Novice that had the gall to laugh, and ignored the drin'far'ji that was the root of all her misery, and embraced saidar. She wove Air deftly, encasing the majority of the bugs in a little dome, and quickly altered the weave so that it squished the creatures efficiently and quickly, leaving a disgusting mass of guts and grime on the previously spotless floor. The bees, the wasps, and the dragonflies had escaped death for only a moment. She sought them out with thin flows of Fire, and they fizzled out anticlimactically in groups of three.

"Class," she heaved, looking from the her startled students, to children that had wreaked havoc upon her lecture, "is dismissed." Her features were distorted into a snarl and her students required no second warning. They leaped from their seats, gathering their belongings as quickly as they could, and ran from the classroom. Illyria was vaguely aware of concern permeating the Bond, and she was nearly tempted to shut Silas from her mind - the last thing she wanted was her husband arriving and attempting to placate her. The pair had earned her wrath. But blocking the Bond would only ensure that he dropped everything and ran to her, and so she allowed the knot of his consciousness to remain. A Dedicated that was too concerned about getting out of the door and not paying enough attention to his surroundings slipped in the bug slime, and landed square on his back. The Indigo stared intently down at him, compassion long gone, and though he tried to rise from the mess, he kept slipping in the juices.

"Help. Him." She looked at the pair of troublemakers, her snarl deepened, and they moved as if their lives depended upon it. Though they were small, they both took an arm, and dragged the lad to his feet. He wisely ran from the room and did not spare a glance behind. A weave of Air slammed the door behind him, and the wood shook in its frame - she'd very nearly splintered the door. "Sit," she hissed, "And explain to me exactly what you were thinking."

Oh Light, this is how I'm going to die.

The Aes Sedai, all things considered, looked like a perfectly reasonable person. She wore a perfectly modest dress, in a perfectly modest shade of lilac, embroidered with dainty little flowers. Her red hair was pinned back in a practical fashion, and despite agelessness, she seemed to have a kind face. Muireen had not met many Aes Sedai, but the ones that she had met were icy and haughty and the epitome of the sort of person that she would not be willing to lay her life down for. And though this Aes Sedai was currently killing their bugs with frightening efficiency - She could burn us like that, if she fancied it! - she had something that the others did not; she had smile lines etched into her feaures. Perhaps in another life, she would have been kind and understanding, and laughed along with them.

But in this life, she was going to kill them.

The bugs were all dead, and the Aes Sedai sent her students scrambling with three words that were filled with venom. One unfortunate fellow tripped in the slime, and hit the ground so hard that the air had to have been knocked from his lungs. Muireen winced on his behalf. The Aes Sedai stared down at him, and despite how eager he was to please, he kept slipping in the disgusting mass of slime. Muireen grimaced, barring her teeth awkwardly. The Aes Sedai barked an order and the drin was quick to comply: she rushed to his side, grabbed his left arm while Avrya took his right, and by some miracle, the two hauled the much taller Dedicated to his feet. As soon as he was upright, he bolted, and the door slammed by unseen means behind him. Muireen flinched at the sound - it reverberated off the walls of the classroom and boomed in her skull.

"Sit," said the Aes Sedai in a dangerous voice, her attention devoted completely to the pair of them, "And tell me exactly what you were thinking." Muireen knew better than to test the woman's patience - she immediately dropped to the floor and made herself at home on the the cold tile. Avrya likely did the same, but Muireen knew better than to take her eyes off of the Aes Sedai's face.

"It's my fault, Aes Sedai," Muireen began immediately. She had spent a good part of her life groveling about unladylike activities, and had learned a long time ago that honesty was the best policy. "I hated an arithmetic class that I took with Edriene Sedai. I felt that she was an unfair instructor. I was very foolish and thought that it would be fun to leave bugs in her classroom. I was very mistaken - this has not been fun at all - and I am very sorry for ruining your day and very sorry for attempting to ruin Edriene Sedai's day. It was unacceptable of me, and it'll never happen again-" The Aes Sedai held up her finger, and Muireen snapped her mouth shut; she'd been babbling, and she knew it, but she did her best to shield Avyra.

"That will suffice, trainee," the Aes Sedai snapped. She turned her gaze to Avrya then, and Muireen felt clammy beads of sweat pop at her forehead. Avrya said she's already been in trouble before... Oh Light, what if I get her kicked out? "You must be Avrya," the Aes Sedai continued, staring directly at her dark-eyed friend. "Quite infamous. I suppose it was only a matter of time before we met. What do you have to say for yourself, child?"

"Well," The Novice said, her mirth somehow not yet dissipated from her features, "I mean, I am Avyra, and Avyra is me. I guess you caught me. How awkward for the both of us, Aes Sedai." Illyria steadied herself and reminded herself that corporal punishment was now Mirin's full responsibility; no matter how dearly she wished to slap the smirk off the child's face, it was no longer her place. Her hand trembled at her side, nonetheless, and her expression darkened. It did not seem to deter the child in the least. "Muireen is mostly correct. But the bugs was my idea. I'm claiming credit for it. One of my better pranks, I must say." By my salvation and rebirth, I will not strike her, Illyria promised, struggling to even begin to wrap her head the child's behavior. "But you didn't have to kill all of em, Aes Sedai," the child simpered, "They were mostly innocent parties. Besides the wasps; they stung me four times." She held up her hand, as she hoped to find sympathy from her. "See? And I don't feel like it’s worth breaking the doorframe over us, either."

It takes something besides fear to get your attention, Illyria thought carefully, reminding herself of her boundaries, Perhaps I ought to try shame. She let Avrya's commentary hang in the air for a long moment and scrutinized her features - exceedingly tiny, dark-haired and green-eyed, and Illyria could feel the Power in her. Avrya had potential, and here she was, wasting every drop of it. The drin'far'ji wrung her hands nervously, and seemed to be on the edge of some sort of a nervous breakdown, but the Aes Sedai ignored her - the girl in grey had pranked her inappropriately, but she seemed to regret that the thought had ever crossed her mind. Ravak Gaidin could deal with that easily. Avrya Moeryr, on the other hand, had overstepped her bounds.

"You don't feel like it's worth breaking the door-frame?" She posed the question in a quiet, sedate voice. "You don't think I should have killed the insects? Tell me, child, since your arrival here, has any Aes Sedai asked your opinion on anything? You are suffering an unfortunate delusion, Novice Avyra. You are here for one purpose and one alone: to learn just enough to keep from killing yourself and destroying anything and anyone that you hold dear, and if you are deemed worthy, you might be extended the opportunity and the privilege to train to become an Aes Sedai." Illyria Malkom did not think that she was a cruel woman, but she had learned long ago that force was all that some children responded to, and had unwillingly added it to her arsenal. Judging by Avrya's silence, this was a more effective tactic than wrath.

"Do you comprehend how lucky you are, child?" Her voice grew cold again, harsh as the reality that existed outside the Tower walls. "Only a quarter of wilders survive long enough to be found and trained. Even then, not all of the women with the spark are found by individuals who would care for them as we have cared for you: you have been fed, clothed, educated, and have a roof above your head. If you had been found on the other side of the Aryth Ocean, or even in Toman's Head, or even in Ebou Dar, you would have fallen into Seanchan hands and been made damane. Do you know what a damane is, Avrya? She is a slave, a pet, a mere tool - she has no personal freedom, no identity beyond her ability. You are extraordinarily lucky. And you squander it, putting bugs in classrooms and wasting every opportunity that is laid at your feet."

"Get out of my sight, both of you," she snapped, feeling wrath rise from the pit of her belly again. Avrya’s ingratitude made her stomach churn. "Find some cleaning supplies and get this classroom set right again; the Tower Servants shouldn't be made to pick up after you." The girls scrambled to their feet, and Illyria strode back to the desk that was at the front of the room. The chair screeched loudly against the tile as she wrenched it from its place, dragging it out far enough that she could sit. She took a sheet of parchment from the top drawer, nearly ripped it in her intensity, and held her quill in a white-knuckled grasp. First was a letter addressed to Ravak Gaidin, concerning the trainee - Her name was Muireen? - and it was a succinct note that alerted him to the fact that she had attempted to prank an Aes Sedai, but that she had been apologetic, exceedingly humble, and would likely accept any penance without a complaint.

Avrya… Avrya was a far more complicated matter.

Muireen’s boots squeaked loudly on the tile as she ran away from the livid Aes Sedai as quickly as her legs could carry her, and she was frightened enough not to care about the stares she earned as she ran. The Drin didn’t have the faintest idea where the cleaning supplies were, but she was going to find them, and she would see to it that the floor was so clean that the Amyrlin could have eaten her dinner off of it. Her hazel eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she could have sworn that her heart was going to beat its way out of her chest.

“That,” she gasped, taking shelter around a corner at some far-flung end of the maze of hallways that housed the classrooms, “Was really bad.” Her chest heaved, and she raked her nails along her scalp. “Oh Light,” she whispered, turning to look at her companion, “I might be sick. And you got the worst of it. Are you alright?” They would need to find the cleaning supplies and eventually return, but for now, Muireen felt as though she needed to find a shovel and bury herself in a pleasant place in the Gardens before Ravak Gaidin murdered her.

She slumped against the wall, eventually settling in the floor with her head cradled in her hands. “Light Avrya, I’m so sorry about this.”

Muireen's jaw hung open, and her eyes were filled with something between incredulity and awe. Avrya was... Laughing? That Aes Sedai had nearly killed them, and though they were still breathing now, that did not mean that they were not going to be six feet under by the end of the day. She would have to face Ravak Gaidin and Avrya would have to face the Mistress of Novices - and judging by the Aes Sedai's reaction, this was not the first time that Avrya had run into trouble.

"You're insane," Muireen said softly, in a hushed, almost reverent voice. She had not met anyone with such a propensity for chaos in her entire life. "You are absolutely insane. Brilliant," she amended and tried to smile, though her stomach still churned, "But absolutely insane. Aren't you afraid of getting kicked out?" The question hung awkwardly in the air. Muireen was not entirely sure that she wanted to be at the Tower, but at least Avyra had real motivation. She could be Aes Sedai one day, if she managed to not to bring the entire Tower down on her own head.

"It's alright." Muireen said quietly after Avrya answered, and ran her hand through her hair again. Oh, Light. No more friends, Muireen. "We ought to get that classroom cleaned up; I suppose after that, we'll get our penances." She stood carefully from where she had slouched, using the wall to steady herself, and began looking for anyone in tower livery. Surely, they had some sort of a supply closet somewhere. It was only a short walk before they found what they were looking for; tucked away behind a seemingly normal door was a small room, filled with buckets and sponges.

"Y'know," Muireen said carefully, stuffing a bucket full of sponges, "Even if we both wind up dead or locked in a cell for a few months, I'm really glad that I fell out of your tree. Never a dull moment with you, Avrya." She flashed her a grin. She was still frightened, but it seemed less daunting with a friend at her side - she doubted that they would be allowed to serve their penances together, but afterwards, it would be good to meet again. Maybe just not for a prank...

They stopped by the kitchens to fill their buckets with hot water, and after Muiren had explained that they were in a great deal of trouble and that an Aes Sedai was waiting on them, the skeptical cook was all too glad to give them scalding water. The pair walked back towards the scene of the crime, careful not to slosh their steaming water, and Muireen kept her head bowed. They passed through the door - it stuck a little, probably from where the it had been slammed with the Power - and out of the corner of her eye, Muireen could see that the Aes Sedai was still there, furiously writing. She could only assume that those were their death sentences.

She scrubbed silently and obediently, and had almost forgotten about her muddy mess until her breeches, soaked through, began to release the dirt onto the already dirty floor. There's just no hope for today... They were going to be here for hours.