The damp imprint from a mug seeps into the crumpled parchment rolled out on the wooden table. She has read the few words written on it multiple times now, as if that'd somehow help to mold them into something making her decision easier. Caithryth leans back, putting her boot against the warm stones of the fireplace until the chair tilts back onto its rear legs while she absentmindedly reaches for the mug of steaming tea.
Rumour has even reached Bree by now that the war is over, at least mostly, including more or less trustworthy accounts of the battles and devastation it has caused. Her fingers trace down the side of her neck and disappear underneath the hem of her tunic until they feel the warm, familiar shape. 'Time to go home'. The thought appeared instantly, causing her to drag the little trinket out, twisting it between thumb and forefinger. The silver glints dully in the flickering light from the fire as she studies it with a more and more annoyed expression until she closes her hand around it. Huffing with anger she gives the chain a quick pull, snapping the thin links with ease before throwing the little silvery jumping salmon away into a corner.
There is a wooden thump as she leans forward again, levelling the chair, to grab the parchment before getting up with determination. She passes the only other patron of the little inn who looks up at her from his ale with a bit of a startled expression that gets effortlessly ignored. As Caithryth steps out of the common room she stops in her tracks, turns around and strides back to her table to rescue the little silver trinket from the floor. As the patron's eyes are still on her as she's leaving, she just snaps a swift few words.
"What are you looking at?"
--------------------Later that day--------------------
Elated, she steps down the stairs of the thirsty boar. Carefully, step by step, as her good mood was quite fueled by good ale, and plenty of that. As she walks towards the barracks she can't help but chuckle, giggle almost.
The moment she arrived there she knew it was the right decision. As all good stories it started with the familiar ring of swordplay - and there's always joy in watching two experts have a go at each other. She has felt the familiar itch coming up, right there, and probably has looked like a kid in amazement to the others. Another chuckle.
Reaching the grounds of the barracks she sits down in the cool grass before letting herself fall back into it, hands folded behind her head as she watches the crescent moon.
It was a no-bullshit event; she muses, remembering the questions she got asked by Fiontann, the leader of the company. That's how it's supposed to be. He'll note quickly enough whether I'll be able to deliver on my promises or not. A self-assured smile flashes over her features. Then she tilts her head to the side, looking at the door before pushing herself up again, the buzz still making this a bit more awkward than it should've been.
Before seeing herself in she stops on the porch, taking one last look at the scenery of the sleepy neighbourhood and the rolling, green hills.
"Guess I'll stay for a while longer."
