Her fingers gripped the sprite. The careful hold she exerted on her coveted finding did not lessen even as she secured it quite firmly to her chest. For the moment, her only concern boiled down to smoothing a path down the shard-like form. A smile flickered upon her face, gentle, ephemeral product of joy. Well, not precisely joy. Mayhap relief. Indeed, more like relief, she decided, storing the humanity away.

She rose, leaving the corpse slumped over in all its rotting glory. "Thank you, my friend." She'd long since stopped using any other line on these unfortunate victims of circumstance. It was useless. And there was no chance they'd answer in kind. She'd best save her words for the occasional pilgrim one encountered.

There were not many of those. In fact, she'd not encountered one for she could not remember how long. Or was it simply that she could no longer tell one day from another; a soft sigh left her lips. Her eyes darted to the corpse, involuntarily tracing the remnants. The dispassionate perusal kept her firmly planted in that one spot those few moments longer it took for her mind to wander. As thoughts were wont to do they scattered whichever way.

For a brief moment, she allowed thoughts of home to be entertained, muddled though they were. In truth they seemed more like dreams than memories, foggy, the threat of uncertainty looming over the collection of blurred images. Once they had been clear to her. Once, what a wistful word that was, much used in song. Her lips quirked. Songs she could remember better. For all that was worth, the words were ingrained in her mind, as though someone had thought to burn them there. Some teacher, she suspected, for the words had been her constant companion undoubting and undaunted both in the face of the arduous journey. It must have been someone concerned with the flightiness of time, wanting to anchor it. But time was too great a vessel. Mayhap she ought to have said as much.

Long enough, her mind snapped. The end might not come but in some distant future, until such a time, though, she would continue on her journey. One last glance towards the mean creature at her feet and she was moving, ever forward. That was the only possible route. And she'd tried, the gods knew she had, to find some other way. For whatever reason all paths but this were closed to her. Gates had sealed shut behind her the moment she sprang to second life. No matter how hard she strained and how far she ran 'twas only this cursed land which embraced her.

In the end, one had little choice but to bow to the dictates of fate whose grip did not lessen even beyond its realm. Greedy mistress and fickle besides, she mused, dusting herself off with slow motions. To have such power. Alas, 'twas not to be and not a one person had yet bested fortune's whims.

Looking up at the skies, she met the shallow shine of a sickly sun. The beams shot towards the ground, light vaguely warm. Better than naught. Anything was better than nothing at all. A gentle gale glided past, raking its fingers through tall blades of grass. There was little scent on the breeze beyond that of dust. Perhaps if the rain should come falling down. Nay; no chance of such.

Not that rain would be particularly helpful. The road was difficult enough to track without mud to cling to the soles of her footwear. Still, the cadence of continual movement would alleviate some of the monotony choking the realm. Drops hurtling towards the ground in unerring constancy; so very much like her. It would be something to feel; something to hear. With the added benefit that the flesh she was trapped in allowed for prolonged exposure. Small mercies; should one wish to consider such a mercy. But that was highly debatable.

And she'd tarried long enough. Habit kicked in and she drew her cloak tighter around her, despite there not being any imminent threat. Nevertheless, she'd found what she had come for. Any further delays would ensure only grief.

She walked, keeping a steady stream of internal conversation. This habit she'd picked up what seemed like ages past; in the days when conversation was not difficult to come by, she imagined, she had no need of the skill. Yet here, where the only other being she could share her loneliness with was herself, it paid to entertain these moments on contemplation. Even better if done with a touch of levity and a healthy dose of humility; those were the only cures she knew for creeping darkness lurking just beneath the surface, lying in wait. Tempted though she was to call it cowardice, to attribute even the slightest trace of intention to a pestilence was quite possibly not the road she wanted to travel upon.

Topics of conversation remained plentiful even without an attempt on her part to categorise the pest. She concentrated on the tall grass and the stones scattered about, she touched upon the subject of clouds and fog and, while she admitted privately that the subjects carried little by way of allure, made a promise to herself that she would not be dissuaded from broaching them simply on those grounds. For, indeed, though one knew the great tales by heart at a certain age, one never grew tired of hearing them. If it should hold for one category surely it would hold for the other as well. With that in mind she pressed further, taking comfort in the familiar circularity of the monologue, sighing contently when it brought her back to the starting point. Just the way she liked it.

The tip of her boot sent a large pebble hurtling forth. She paused, her foot elevated aboveground. The pebble bounced to the side, fading out of sight as green grass embraced it. Her foot came down. It hadn't travelled far, of course, and should she wish it, she could easily retrieve it. Why do something like that though? If she was as she was why be alone in her state?

The pebble remained lost as her feet carried her farther and farther away. This road she was familiar enough with that her eyes paid it little mind and her mind even less. And still she ended up at the bonfire, all in one piece, not a hair out of place.

Her return was remarked upon by the forlorn warrior. "Come back have you?" the man questioned. "Replete with treasures. Although what need you'll have of them when you turn hollow, I know not. Don't let that stop you." He chuckled.

Instead of answering him straight away, she placed her satchel upon the ground and sat before the fire, seeking a comfortable position. "I never do. The exercise is useful besides." She'd long since stopped needling him to come with. The man would not be moved. It was his wish to grow hollow, and she'd never been one to impede others in their quests.

Her companion made a sharp sound, akin to a snort. It occurred to her that he might finally exert himself into an argument if nothing else. No such luck, he remained silent as she rummaged through her possessions. "Anyone new travelled these parts?"

"Not that I've seen," the warrior answered. "Perhaps you should return to the Asylum and seek out this company you so need." Despite the harshness of the statement, she failed to detect malice behind his words.

"Nay; indeed, the last of my company in those parts is long gone." The only person of sense she'd met had left only a shield of himself. And, to herself, she could admit to herself, he'd also left a sense of gratitude within her. Repaying him by releasing him from his curse was not precisely what she'd consider a fair trade. But then, there was nothing else she could give him, besides complying with his request.

She would return a third time to the Asylum. To her mind all those months she'd spent locked away and her subsequent return were more than enough to ensure she did not wish to reside among brethren who'd lost themselves or were about to lose themselves. There was, after all, something to be said of all the hopelessness permeating those walls. So dark and cold, she shivered just pondering it.

What she ought to do was return to Anor Londo. Solaire was quite possibly still seeking out his very own sun. Certainly all the talk would drive her mad, but the good sort. And she liked Solaire well enough. That knight was a cut above the usual Undead one found. Who knew, she might even aid him in his quest if it came to that.

After? There always was the question of what after. It ever quite faded from her mind, no matter many times over she told herself a steady stream of goals was what she needed. There was only one answer. Only one which satisfied. Certainly one could choose to succumb. She had no plans to do so. Death was preferable. After that or before it even, she would do well to make use of the Lordvessel soon to be in her possession and fulfil the prophecy. If it was within her power.

Her fingers curled around the rounded edge of a ring she'd found amid the bundled belongings. She lifted it from its place and admired the shine by the warm light of the fire. There was nothing special about the ring. She had brought it along on her journey out of sheer perversity, an indomitable desire to cling to one remnant of a bygone age, she supposed. Turning it between her fingers she read the words which had been inscribed upon its inner side. The smile stealing across her lips was not so much a rendition of earlier sentiment as it was remembrance of irrefutable proof witnessed time and again that those words, at best, were misleading.

That settled it. She would return to Anor Londo and seek out the Lordvessel once more. The ring between her fingers grew heavier than before. She slipped it onto one fingers and spread her fingers out. The light still stroked the golden band, but at least the words were out of sight. Out of mind; not so much. She suspected it might take a few more death for her to forget that. Once forgotten she could simply throw it away, she supposed. There was some comfort in that. The embrace of the token grew bothersome before long. She took it off without much regret and deposited in its initial location, drawing a tattered piece of cloth over it, effectively hiding its existence away. Satisfied, she stretched her limb out overhead. There was no stiffness to speak of, but the feeling was still pleasant enough to merit the exertion on her part. With the same careless motion she brought down her arms and rolled her shoulders a couple of times.

She debated making use of her humanity. But then she'd kept herself in good enough shape that she could afford going without for some time yet. Might be she'd have need of it at a later time. She climbed to her feet, instinct taking over.

Her actions did not go unnoticed. The silent warrior looked up from, disrupted in his musings. "Had quite enough of it already, haven't you?"

Realisation struck her. A chuckle spilled past her lips. "Sitting still for long periods at a time has never been my strength. I do not see why that should change even in this strange land." He nodded, bracing his hands upon his knees, but gave no further indication that he wished to continue their dialogue.

Thus, she turned around, with a notion that a short walk would be just the thing before she settled in for a lengthier rest. Her feet trod over the already-bent-grass pathway with much care, mind picking up on those small sounds one rarely heard when not actively seeking them out. The crickets seemed to be in a jaunty mood, playing a jolly jig for the enjoyment of anyone who cared to listen.