[65][written/action]
[At last. Peaceful, mostly sunny. No sign of the moon, or masks, or costumes.
...And Nephry is moving through the plaza at the pace and with the general stiff gait of an old woman.
Fitting, she thinks.
Near the fountain she sits on a bench, opening the journal on her lap. She's never been one to make announcements too personal, or to call unnecessary attention to herself. A chill breeze lifts a few pages of the book, though, and she smiles, writing.]
Winter is coming. [a pause, and then] It's still strange to me, sometimes. Even after living here for a couple of years...I still expect the cold and snow to be a more permanent visitor.
Do you enjoy the snow? Or do you prefer warmer climates?
...And Nephry is moving through the plaza at the pace and with the general stiff gait of an old woman.
Fitting, she thinks.
Near the fountain she sits on a bench, opening the journal on her lap. She's never been one to make announcements too personal, or to call unnecessary attention to herself. A chill breeze lifts a few pages of the book, though, and she smiles, writing.]
Winter is coming. [a pause, and then] It's still strange to me, sometimes. Even after living here for a couple of years...I still expect the cold and snow to be a more permanent visitor.
Do you enjoy the snow? Or do you prefer warmer climates?