It was nearing the hours of dusk when she galloped through the gates of Salem on her mare, trekking on in a cloak that did little to mask the beautiful strands of silvery gold hair glistening beneath the amber sun. The streets were empty of stalls, vendors, and pedestrians.
She stopped at the Drakmar Inn and strapped her horse to the fence, listening to the hubbub of voices, songs of adventure, and the laughter of men. As usual, near this time of day, it was full of drunks, both young and old.
It all went to silence when she kicked the door open, her lips revealing pristine white teeth. "I'm back bitches!"
"Aurelia!" The old Innkeep, Hoodric, he went by, shouted, echoed by the others. Tankards lifted one by one as they welcomed the young woman inside. Her honey-gold eyes tingled like stars beneath the flickers of torches.