(no subject)
Sabriel has been expecting to open the door into the shared lounge area of the hotel's suite, and pauses at the rush of warmth from Milliways, hesitating instead of stepping through. It has been some time since she was last here, and - truth be told - had not expected to return. She is too busy for such things, and halfway into Ancelstierre they are now beyond where she can reach the Charter. Somehow it seems strange that Milliways can be found where the Charter cannot.
Frowning slightly, she steps in at last, closing the door behind her. Her dress is not her usual surcoat, but is instead the current city fashion - long skirt, bare arms, flimsy fabric that feels uncomfortably clinging.
(It looks odd with the bandolier of bells, but there is a limit to fitting in with her surroundings.)
She crosses to a table, and speaks quietly to the rat which scurries over. The mark on her forehead glows faintly, them fades as she releases the Charter, reassured.
Why not?
Frowning slightly, she steps in at last, closing the door behind her. Her dress is not her usual surcoat, but is instead the current city fashion - long skirt, bare arms, flimsy fabric that feels uncomfortably clinging.
(It looks odd with the bandolier of bells, but there is a limit to fitting in with her surroundings.)
She crosses to a table, and speaks quietly to the rat which scurries over. The mark on her forehead glows faintly, them fades as she releases the Charter, reassured.
Why not?