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Saure woke before dawn the next day. She had dreamed that she was a powerful sorceress, and had commanded plants to sprout instantly from seed. She then commanded birds- hermit thrushes, they were- to sing in chorus and cause the flowers to bloom in startling color. It made little sense to her now, but her own power was still mostly unknown. This made a bright plume of excitement spread in her chest. She rushed up the ladder and began rifling through books. She pulled them off the shelf and dropped them on the loftboards, creating a booming racket. Fred soon woke, grumpy and reprimanding.

"I say, have a little consideration, will you? 'Tis early... the bloody dawn hasn't even broken yet!"
"My apologies, good pet! I can't help myself!"
"PET? Pet, say you??"
She ignored this and continued in her task till she found the red volume she had been looking for. Fred, meanwhile, slunk groggily to the door and pulled the rope latch, letting himself out.

Saure spent all of that morning and most of the day reading. She read all her favorite stories about wizards, sorcerers, witches and heroes. She made notes of the spells mentioned, and looked for similarities. She found many, but one stood out to her above the rest: every good story involved a grand journey. Many also involved the death of the protagonist's parents or loved ones.

She daydreamed about what she would be able to do with this new knowledge from the Manifesto... and quickly realized that she would not be able to do much while in the kirn. The city of Nora didn't even seem like much of a helpful possibility, either... but it was a good place to start.

It was late afternoon when she began to prepare. She went about the house, gathering all the potions from their storage, all useful books, all food items, all the tallow lamps... the list seemed almost endless. She could foresee good uses for almost everything at hand. The excitement in her chest made

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her feel like she might explode like a lightningblood. When she finished, she had three large chests, several baskets and bags, and one pack which she would keep close at all times. This was her gunna, and it consisted of only the things which were most immediately useful. It must come as no surprise to you that the Manifesto was among these, bound carefully in its dragonwing and twine.

Fred returned with the dusk, carrying four conies in his large mouth. He dropped them, and looked around at the great clutter of luggage. Saure was cooking chopped wild garlic and onion in a pan over the fire.

"Oh! Good, you brought meat! Let us celebrate! I found my father's mead!"
Fred was puzzled, but not displeased at this. He picked up the rabbits and brought them over to her.

They feasted on the good supper, and both had a mug or two of her father's special-occasion mead. Saure told him all about her revelation, and he couldn't help but catch the excitement himself. The mead aided greatly to silly giddiness.

So, the plan was set. Tonight, she would play a rogue, but ever afterward she would be a free spirit.
Saure brought a shallow bowl of mead out to Nag, who sniffed at it with disdain and demanded an explanation.
"We're escaping this silly little kirn tonight, and we're never coming back."
Nag huffed. "I'll drink to that." and so she did.
Late that night, and with Nag's aid, she was able to coerce a dull bay stallion to help pull a stolen cover-cart. Saure doubted the Desses would miss it much. They had several better ones.

Fred helped Saure load the heavy trunks intro the back of the sturdy cart. He bit the leather straps on them carefully, but still managed to snap one. The wooden trunk and its contents survived the spill.