As she raced through the archway of the main gate, though, an odd image floated through Asiara's mind – she saw herself in a hooded cloak, there was...a dagger strike, blood on the white stones. Shaking her head as she galloped through the city's main street, she looked over her shoulder, and everything was as it should be – no blood, the gate as it had been moments earlier.Ignoring the brief vision, she continued on, making her way swiftly through the city. She could feel the confused and. The daughter, a pretty thing of about 18 kept twisting her hair and giving him a sideways look like she had a real itch between her legs. Since they were leaving, it didn't seem like it would be worthwhile to give the girl a tumble and he was waiting on Mrs. Primgrass. Mrs. Agatha Primgrass to be specific, the bereaved widow of the recently departed editor of the local newspaper.Blackie recalled the soft feel of her haunches rubbing hard into his groin as she left town only a few short days. More

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