Briar woke early, as soon as the sunlight touched her eyelids.
And when she did, she saw that Dirk was gone.
Alba was still sleeping, which worked well for her. The last thing she needed was the girl making a fuss and outing her. The girl would be fine; Dirk was a nice enough fellow and Briar believed he really would track down her family and see her safe. He could just do it without her. Staying near the guy was bad for her health. One, because of the obvious--criminals and do-gooders just didn't mix and he was so damned insufferably honest. Two, because of the crazy shit that he did to her. Like, what the hell even was all that, the stupid handsome prick. Those were things she didn't feel, couldn't let herself feel, and it made no goddamned sense, anyway, when she hated his stupid face.
Nope, it was all too fucking dangerous and too fucking annoying. She needed to get out now.
Biting back her grumbles, Briar gingerly rose to her feet, sucking in sharp breaths of pain and clenching her jaw shut, and hobbled her way to gather up her things. It was an effort to pull on her boots, but she managed. That was all she needed. She would keep his robe, and he could keep her other things, because she didn't have time to waste gathering them up, not when this was going to be slow going.
So with a deep breath as she braced for the pain, she began to walk out of the camp, slowly, carefully, measuring her steps and watching where she put her feet. The pain was almost too much, enough that she had to swallow back lumps of nausea, and she knew if she wasn't careful she'd just tear her wounds open again, but it was a risk she had to take. This time, she wasn't dragging herself along, trailing blood for him to follow. This time she had a bit of a head start.