it floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier {closed, incomplete}
Characters: lefeys & cassie_of_troy
Setting/Location: level iv ; rest area
Date & Time: day 25 ; mid-morning
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Two women who can see the future. The question is why haven’t they formally met yet.
The past few days on the caravan had blended within Morgana’s memory until she had lost track of them almost entirely. After being ill, it had taken her a few days to regain her bearings. And once she had, she realized that there was something she had left quite unfinished.
She was seated at one of the many chairs overlooking the railing, hands in her lap. After falling into the lake, she’d managed to finally dry out her gown and get herself back to looking at least somewhat presentable-dark curls tied into a knot at the base of her neck, skirts smooth and no longer water-lodged. This was the way she preferred to be, her appearance an extension of her state of mind in terms of control.
The caravan seemed more like a small town that anything else, and that being the case it was difficult to find a single person in the crowd. So Morgana had sent a message earlier that day, and hoped that the other woman had received it. There were, after all, things to discuss.
Setting/Location: level iv ; rest area
Date & Time: day 25 ; mid-morning
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Two women who can see the future. The question is why haven’t they formally met yet.
The past few days on the caravan had blended within Morgana’s memory until she had lost track of them almost entirely. After being ill, it had taken her a few days to regain her bearings. And once she had, she realized that there was something she had left quite unfinished.
She was seated at one of the many chairs overlooking the railing, hands in her lap. After falling into the lake, she’d managed to finally dry out her gown and get herself back to looking at least somewhat presentable-dark curls tied into a knot at the base of her neck, skirts smooth and no longer water-lodged. This was the way she preferred to be, her appearance an extension of her state of mind in terms of control.
The caravan seemed more like a small town that anything else, and that being the case it was difficult to find a single person in the crowd. So Morgana had sent a message earlier that day, and hoped that the other woman had received it. There were, after all, things to discuss.