A few minutes earlier.
Having picked Dandelion up and saved what little that was left of the grilling meat, Evelynn noticed people approaching them.
Turning to look, she saw faces she recognized through the trees. And how could she ever forget? She had watched these people intend to kill Lydia in cold blood.
If she hadn't heard Lydia cry out in pain, if she hadn't been a healer, Lydia would have died that day.
'Though, she still died in the end. Because of me...'
Feeling as the emptiness returned with the thoughts of Lydia, Evelynn also felt another emotion. One she hadn't known where to point.
Rage.
Rage at the helplessness she had felt when she first heard Lydia was killed.
Rage at how she had clung to the hope that she was still alive.
Rage at her own breakdown when Matthew confirmed Lydia's passing.
And rage at her own lack of strength. How weak she still was.
