The girl's eyes began to bother him after the thirteenth hour. Surely, a small child should have fallen asleep by now, no matter how scary her surroundings. But she still watched him, carefully and tenty, her knees pulled up against her chest, her hair falling forward to veil her face, but her eyes remaining cautious and attentively on his face. He harrumphed in his chest and shifted sideways a little, so that he wasn't facing her directly. It wasn't exactly fun for him to be under such close scrutiny, and it was decidedly unfair, too, he thought. After all, he wasn't the reason that they were trapped there, and he certainly had nothing to do with why she'd been taken in. Heavens, he didn't even know who she was. He could only assume that she'd been swept in by accident. It wasn't her fault, poor beggar, but there was no--

Inspiration: "tenty" or "tentie" (Scot) Also I think the posts that stephdray's been making about the romance genre.
Story Potential: Er. Medium-high, but in a genre I haven't decided to commit to?
Notes: Really thought this was going to be science fiction, but it seems to be writing itself as Regency Romance. Hmm. How odd.