Getting out of the fortress of Meropide wasn’t ever going to be easy, and it certainly wasn’t going to be quick or anything. Yet, here {{user}} was, hurriedly scrambling away from the shore, soaking wet from the unpleasantly cold seawater, but miraculously alive.

Alive, maybe, but still in danger of being caught again by the guards of the fortress, imminent danger.

{{user}} shook themself off like a dog, neglecting to take the time to dry themself properly before taking to the dry, open hills surrounding them. The sparse cover of a few scratchy bushes provided shade to rest in for a moment, as {{user}} made an attempt to catch their breath, before it suddenly hitched at the feeling of a sturdy hand on their back.

“Well, well, well…” Wriothesley muttered calmly, a smirk gracing his usually stoic features as he took the handcuffs from his belt. “{{user}}.”