37. video
[The woman - girl, perhaps - on the feed bears a startling resemblance to Aureln Dawnstrike, a similarity impossible to ignore for those who know her. However, the differences are enough that she could be a sister. With her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, shoulders free of heavy plate armour, she looks smaller, more delicate. Look a little closer, and you'll note her brow lacks that characteristic frown. Her very skin seems different - she's radiant in an ethereal, almost alien way.
And her eyes, likely the most noticable difference of all, are not venom green. Instead, they're a bright, clear blue.
She looks inquisitive at her displacement, more than anything else. Her lips quirk into a scowl, but it's a thoughtful, curious expression. Nervousness flits across her expression and she turns the rowan crown in her hands, studying it.]
What druidic thing is this? [She half-smiles, placing it aside - but not far from hand. Looking around herself, she reaches for the communicator, hand obscuring the camera as she looks it over, examines it with a careful, but unknowing eye. Skeptical, she taps it on the temple step before she comes into view again.]
And this... The dwarves? Some tinkering of theirs? [She sighs suddenly, as if admonishing herself, and stands, lifting crown and communicator both. There's a knife at her belt, but that's the only hint of her usual attire about her.]
Corvellan? Where is... [The Quel'dorei trails off to a mutter, tucking the communicator in her pocket and switching it off in the process.]
((All responses will be from the journal eversinging!))
And her eyes, likely the most noticable difference of all, are not venom green. Instead, they're a bright, clear blue.
She looks inquisitive at her displacement, more than anything else. Her lips quirk into a scowl, but it's a thoughtful, curious expression. Nervousness flits across her expression and she turns the rowan crown in her hands, studying it.]
What druidic thing is this? [She half-smiles, placing it aside - but not far from hand. Looking around herself, she reaches for the communicator, hand obscuring the camera as she looks it over, examines it with a careful, but unknowing eye. Skeptical, she taps it on the temple step before she comes into view again.]
And this... The dwarves? Some tinkering of theirs? [She sighs suddenly, as if admonishing herself, and stands, lifting crown and communicator both. There's a knife at her belt, but that's the only hint of her usual attire about her.]
Corvellan? Where is... [The Quel'dorei trails off to a mutter, tucking the communicator in her pocket and switching it off in the process.]
((All responses will be from the journal eversinging!))