((Makes sense. Love the sentiment growing there.))

Two years had passed in a swirl of activities. Trinity discovered much to her pleasure that she had skills that had lain dormant. She spent her days learning alchemy at the local herbalist shop. Learning which plants and other random things combined with what to make helpful (or harmful) potions was fun for her. It gave her a place to keep her hands busy.

Then at night she would settle in front of the fireplace at the inn, playing a small guitar or flute. If the guitar, then she sang. The songs were songs she had known in the forest. She had since learned that not many people ventured into The Great Forest, giving it as a haven to the wildlife. Only when the villages sent traders outside did news travel between the two worlds.

As much as she yearned to know more in her quiet moments, she never pursued knowledge about either the bandits or the silver-haired hero that had helped her. Her own hair, almost white with tinges of the lightest brown on the ends had caused no small amount of curiosity among her those in this village. It was when a little girl had first piped up, "She had brown in her hair," that had transformed the people from silent, distant respect to a more jolly and friendly group. It made her wonder.