In the wee early morning of dawn, just before the light, the quietness of the teahouse is interrupted by a woman's scream. Lavender bolts upright in her bed, clutching her chest with her hand, her entire body soaked with sweat. She closes her mouth, realizing the scream came from her and it was only a dream.. Only a dream, she tries to tell her badly shaking body, but something makes her throw the bed covers back and stand on her two wobbly legs. Her heart is pounding in her chest, threatening to erupt from her ribs at any second, she thinks, but still she presses on. Wet hair matted to her skull, the woman stumbles out of her bedroom door and down the hall towards Cambree's room. It is here, that she pauses, and gazes at her hands, expecting them to be covered in blood, but in the paleness of the very faint moonlight she can see that they are not.
With balled fists Lavender begins to pound on Cambree's door, not a quiet knock, but one to wake the dead.. or maybe the whole teahouse. She stand there, trembling like a leaf, pale, wide eyed and crazed, as she awaits the answer from within struggling to catch her breath.