She lay on her side, with the rough cobblestones beneath her. Her pack and lute beneath her head as a prop, wrapped in her over coat since... as it were, the safety of the wooden instrument far surpassed the bumps on her arms in the way of importance. Rain poured down all around her. The makeshift hide tent roof up above her being wide enough to keep her face and belongings dry, but not her legs and feet which, despite her being tucked into a rather small ball, stuck out at the bottom. The wind howled, whipping at the various tents that littered the cluttered alley, the walls around them being a saving grace from the harsh chill it brings. Her golden-green eyes drop closed, and she shakes out a sighing breath as she feels her spine both painfully and wonderfully realign itself against the ground. However, the moment of bliss was... brief, at an understatement.
Calloused fingers wrapping around her neck, jerking her upwards with a wheeze and a muffled shriek of horror. Her eyes flick open, wavering in panic as she stares into the face of the man who had grasped her. Her breath forced from her lungs as she feels herself slammed back into the wall. Trying to scream but with no air to do it. She's dropped to the ground, feeling her tail end hit the stones drawing a harsh wince across her features in time with a flash of harsh lightning through the sky that drowns out her yelp with its thunder. The man turns, beginning to go through... to take her things. Shoving coins in his pockets, and whatever else he could get his hands on beneath his arms. In the flash of the lightning, and the light of the moon, her hands catch a glint of her weapons lying in a heap against the wall. Taking up a dagger she staggers to her feet and pounces his back, but the blade misses it's target as she slips, flailing onto him awkwardly. He throws her off, the dagger skittering from her finger tips as he tackles her after. She flails, grasping blindly, and coming up with only an arrow. In a desperate attempt, she presses the point out towards him without a true aim; there isn't a shred of hope behind this, as she considers herself well and dead.
Somehow, perhaps fate, or perhaps simply adrenaline, the arrow finds a mark. Right in the neck of the man. He gasps, staggering back off her, and into the wall. Pouring rain sticks her chocolate curls around her terrified eyes, that and the roaring rain and the pounding in her ears making her almost void of all use of her senses. Yet somehow... she gets her bow. Somehow she strings the arrow. And somehow...
She slams down the mug on the cracked, dirty countertop among the rest of them. The din of the Comb and Wattle humming in the background, drowning out the shaking breaths that fell from the lips of her finally no longer trembling form. Her eyes glitter glazed, the effects of the brandy she's so fond of, and yet so loathes, beginning to kick in.
There's a squeal, and then the door of the tavern slams shut, with two men, just as rain-drenched as herself sauntering in; their voices floating through the din, "Oh aye. Must have happened last night, found 'im layin there on the cobblestones, big hole in 'is neck with a bloody arrow by 'im and one still stickin' out of i's chest. Sayin' it was some kinda.. paid kill, probly. Dunno who'd want 'im dead, though."
A small smirk forms on her lips, and her eyes shift down into the mug that the barmaid had set in front of her. The reflection staring back at her was disappointing her, because it didn't look nearly as guilty as it should. She looks over her shoulder, calling out, "Him? Probably some revenge scheme! You heard what he did to Ellie, anyway!"
The men eye her, chuckling and nodding. "What, you shoot 'im?"
She smirks, eyes dropping narrow. "Oh yes. I shot him, right through the neck I did! He looked at me and he said; 'You! You are the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on! I could not die in a more honorable way!' and then gasped his last breath."
The men burst out laughing, shaking their heads and sauntering on, leaving Eva herself to smirk grimly down into the mug beneath her, and leaving it one drop fuller than it'd been before.
