In the darkness of the little inn's room, on the small, cotton filled mattress, a woman shot up from where she had been sleeping, chest heaving and taking shaky breaths. Rubbing her face with the trembling hands that weren't listening to her orders to stay still, Estella exhaled slowly as she tried to slow down her panicked heart – and body, which was prepped, ready, and demanding for her to run for safety. You'd think after this many years of this, it'd be easier to handle. She thought to herself wryly, and swung her legs out of bed, and stood. Starting to stretch, trying to appease her body's want to move, she glanced at the window, trying to figure out what time it was. By the sky, she figured it was a couple hours or so before the sun rose. Good, the lean woman thought to herself, stretching and beginning to tie her thick gray mane back, I don't have to try and fall back asleep. Estella's joints felt wooden as her rough clothes slipped over her head and up her legs, and she gave a huge yawn, eyes watering. The nightmares had come more often than usual, with more intensity, leaving her more and more tired every night. If they continued on for much longer, she don't think she'd be sticking around. Life on the road and taking random day jobs wasn't a bad living, but the nights weren't anything she wanted to live for anymore. With another yawn, Estella hoisted her pack up onto her shoulder, and buckled her sword onto her waist after grabbing it from beside her bed. She needed to get out of the building and go get some fresh air. After that, she wasn't quite sure what her plans for the day were.