{All of this is in her memory fyi. Old World. No confusion}
ADELINE REGINA
"Ad?"
A voice.
Only memories—
"Ad, I'm going to eat all your muffins~"
Memories—
"Ad?"
A shift. A tremor.
"Seriously, there are too many people marching. I need you to wake up—"
Her breath hitched.
That voice.
That name.
Priscilla?
Her eyes snapped open.
The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth and cloth. She was in a tent.
Near the east. Tear Drip.
Something was amiss...
Her body tensed instinctively. The weight of her dagger was still at her side. The dull murmur of distant voices bled through the canvas.
"Am I in a dream?"
She spoke the words aloud, her voice cutting through the silence.
Priscilla crouched before her.
Broad-shouldered, chubby, but strong—her frame hidden beneath layers of steel, but her strength undeniable. A giant war axe lay across the tent's wall, its edge well-kept, bloodied honed for battle. She could swing it one-handed without effort.
