61 Nim

Nim was fired up and ready to depart with haste after the faerie's message that a witch in need sent for help. The news was vague, but she could tell that more than the witch's freedom hinged on her release. It was only after Sana had mentioned reinforcements that she calmed. Nim had followed Sana's bouncing copper curls down several long hallways, weaving their way through the corridors of Agremonth at a fevered face. 

They had finally reached a large dining hall where several women varying in age from barely-woman to grandmother were sitting at long tables that stretched the length of the long room. Their hushed conversations dissipated into the high vaulted ceilings as a large stone hearth that three men could easily stand inside crackled with an evening fire. The sight before her was not of women imprisoned because their easy smiles and occasional laughter gave the impression of camaraderie and comfort, Nim noticed.