Despite the contentedness that has filled Cassandra since Daud’s sudden arrival in Whitestone, and the happiness that has filled her... it doesn’t keep her from being haunted by her past. It doesn’t keep her from the nightmares. They’re her nigh constant companions, although their degrees of intensity varies. And sometimes she might not have any. Although that is a more recent development.

However, this is not one of those nights. Instead they are particularly intense. Vibrant. And she wakes violently, a scream dying on her lips as she frantically fumbles at her neck to staunch the blood that no longer flows, flinching away from a vampire that is no longer there. Gasping for breath, remains still for several long moments, waiting until she feels as though her legs will hold her weight once more.

And then she is scrambling out of bed, foregoing her typical layers for something quicker and in nothing more than her shirtsleeves, trousers, waistcoat and boots, she carefully winds a scarf around her throat and flees her chambers. She could seek out Daud, but she doesn’t think she can. She doesn’t want to bother him. Wake him. He’s still settling into life in Whitestone, she thinks. Getting used to having a place where he belongs. A place to call home. Getting used to an entirely new world to call his own.

So, instead she retreats to the rooftop.

It’s quiet, there. Secluded. (There are only two people who would be up there; she’s one of them, and the other is Daud.) She can be alone, until the trembling of her limbs seeps into the worn surface and out of her and her past claws at her chest a little bit less.