affame_le_geant_the_mandrill_must_die fyn gula ignet remained on the bed staring at the blood red spot on the white bandage of her injured hand. she slowly shook her head, condemning her self-preservation, unable to see herself as anyone but a stain on this clean world, this pristine circle of happy, married couples who were willing to risk all for her welfare. like praayli last said before she left her, she had made a big mistake and by her nefarious actions had dragged four innocent others into a tangled web of retribution and danger. it was time to change. to make things right. and though their offer to help her was noble and unbelievably generous, she could not let them jeopardize their personal safety. she would let the kind doctor stitch her so they would feel they did enough and then... that would be it...... she realized there was only one thing to do next. leave. sneak away without them knowing. get out before she caused any more problems. she stepped over to the window, pulled the curtain back and peered through the glass to see if there was a way to exit without anyone discovering. try to hatch an escape plan for later while they were asleep. but something happened then, that would send everything into a whirlwind of chaos.................... "what is that?" she asked herself, for the moment she gazed outside to the blizzardy world a strange flashing of light caught her eye. there were strange flames of fire. and the closer she looked with startled apprehension, she saw that they spread across a portion of the farmyard in an eerie sense of order. someone or something had cut letters out of the snow and lit them somehow. ignet squinted and suddenly felt the breath catch in her throat as if the gnarled hands of the devil himself were choking her. it was undeniable. the letters formed words. four of them that read: THE MANDRILL MUST DIE even before she could allow the cryptic message to enter her thinking beyond the shock of its intent, she heard the muffled sounds of shouts and commotion down below, then loud knocks on the wooden door. panicked, she looked out again and saw the makings of a mob, too many indistinguishable figures to count, some holding torches whose angry light cut the night and splashed illumination on the snow around them. others were obscured in shadow, but weapons of some sort were visible, clutched in their hands. others held on to some type of animals that were squealing and grunting. ignet was reduced to the primal sense of survival when one was unavoidably faced with life or death. she decided to save herself and hide. 030131 what's it to you? who go blather from