Medea couldn't watch as Maribelle packed up her things, stubbornly focusing on a spot on the floor until the door finally closed. So that was it, was it?

But she knew she couldn't stay, even as she collapsed onto the bed. If anyone was coming after her, then her house would be the first place they looked, wouldn't it? She had to get out of here. She had to move.

Slowly, she nudged her familiar, trying to will it- and herself- to get up.

"Little one we can't stay here- they'll- they'll come-"

The little dragon made a small, sad noise- and despite her words, Medea couldn't find the strength to move from her exhaustion.

"...please..." It was hopeless, though, and she found herself hugging onto that weird torso-and-arm shaped pillow the Traders had sold her, quietly sobbing into its 'shoulder' until the rest of her energy wore out.

And there, she passed into an uneasy sleep.