Having said a grateful goodnight to Annie (and returned the camera), Emme spent a fruitless half-hour wandering through the Caoja, looking for Triar.

Her mind raced as she looked for the dark, mysterious man. Why had he asked her? Was this a "date"? Or had she totally misread the situation? Was he really waiting for her? She patted her hair, wondering if it still looked nice. Her beautiful dress' hem was becoming dusty from walking on the cobbles, brushing up against her townspeople, some of whom stared oddly at her, wondering why she was so overdressed.

Finally, she came to the edge of Crosstown Court. There were only a few carts here, mostly abandoned and closed up for the night. Sitting down on a nearby hay bale, she rested her chin in her hands. He wasn't coming. She was foolish to believe he would. And her hair was beginning to come unraveled from the tight bun Hania had constructed; a long tendril snaked down past her face. She blew air out of the side of her mouth, watching it jump up in the updraft.

Perhaps it was for the best, she thought. After all, she shouldn't be eager to get mixed up with another human freedom fighter...

Emme jumped as Triar approached. "Oh, goodness, you gave me a fright," she said, clutching her chest and laughing a bit. She had a relatively deep laugh for someone with such a small voice. Remembering her manners, she stood and bowed a little. "Good evening."



"It's no trouble," she said, feeling extremely nervous in the man's presence. She discreetly brushed some hay from her backside - damn hay bales. "And...not really. I nearly got myself gutted by some golly with a chip on her shoulder."

Walking and talking - her favorite thing to do. She hated sitting in one place.

She wasn't sure if she was meant to take his hand or not; she started to, and then, panicking, turned it into more of a gesture. "Sure," she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. Smooth, Emme.

As they began walking, she looked him over. He was most definitely a resistance fighter. His stance, the way he walked, even his voice...she had known a few of them through Willy, and they all had this sort of invisible mark on them. A weight on their shoulders, a certain darkness under their eyes.

The thought of Willy made her insides turn leaden with guilt. Not even a week after he's dead and you're off with some other man...in a totally platonic capacity, she angrily reminded herself.

"Nice night," she offered, trying to stop thinking about such negative things.

Wide-eyed, Emme let her jaw drop slightly as she stared at Triar.

"Me?" she said, her voice ringing with disbelief. "Why would anyone come after me? Was it the things I said, about Willy, in the paper?" She stopped walking and wrung her hands, more hair coming loose from her bun in her frazzled state. "Is this why you asked me here?"

"Now...wait just a minute..."

Emme backed away a bit. "I don't even really know you, Mr. Vahl. I've only met you twice before..." Her heart was really racing now. "Where do you want to take me? Who's after me, exactly? How long would I be gone?"

She had so many questions, but from the look in his eyes, she doubted he would be entirely truthful. She knew how this business worked, how everything was secret from people like her.

She wrung her hands, casting her eyes down. "Dze," she whispered, helplessly. "I need to get a few things from home..."