Anyone can join, with a 50-word vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.
Hobert lead them down the stairs again. "Not quite help for the helpless, but home for the homeless. At least for young maidens."
Aurelie had never felt quite so young in her life. "What will we do for dinner?" she said.
"Food's coming. But for the maidens, not me, so I will be off."
More swiftly than seemed possible, they had burst through other doors, up or down other stairs, down other corridors, and she was alone. Lost. Friendless. With nowhere to go. Her rented room did not feel like home, but neither would her childhood home now.
You were going to class, she reminded herself.
Even out of the waters, this looked like a wasteland that people driven from their homes by fire or war would trudge through in hope of a refuge on the other side.
He had more than hope. They were well within the realm, and if the airfield was not there, still there would settlements in walking range.