Lost.

[sisterofswans]

The girl opens her mouth to speak and then closes it again, covering it with a hand as if to stop up the sound. Under one arm is a bundle of thistles, the handling of which may explain the angry-looking red scratches on that pale hand, but despite the prickly unpleasantness, she clutches it tightly to herself

Comments

[illgotten]

"You all right?"

[sisterofswans]

She shakes her head, clutching the bundle of thistles tighter. It is, unfortunately, awfully difficult to explain that you cannot speak without speaking.

[illgotten]

He studies her a moment. "Looking for something in particular?"

[sisterofswans]

She starts to shake her head again, has a thought, sets her thistles down. Then she makes what she hopes looks like the motions of spinning with her hands. There are no restrictions on pantomime, after all, and she will need a spinning wheel if she is to accomplish anything.

[heartofbirds]

Linden hesitates and then offers her his hand. "Are you well, madam?"

[sisterofswans]

She nods, but holds her bundle of thistles tight to her with both hands.

[heartofbirds]

He nods quietly. "Do you need a place to stay?"

[sisterofswans]

The girl hesitates, then nods again. She cannot go on sleeping in trees forever.

[emobard]

"Hello," Daeron greets her softly. "Are you alright?"

[sisterofswans]

She gives what she hopes is a reassuring smile and nods, pointing at her hand and then at the thistles to convey that the scratches came from those and are nothing to worry over.

[emobard]

He frowns a little, looking over the scratches. "Perhaps I could offer to find you a pair of gloves?"

[sisterofswans]

She hesitates, suspicious. He seems kind, but she is not inclined to be trustful, at the moment. This place could very well be one of her stepmother's creations, and she is afraid of tricks.

[sweariwontdie]

"Mademoiselle, do you need help?"

[sisterofswans]

A firm shake of the head. Only she can do what must be done.

[sweariwontdie]

"I could carry those for you. It looks like you've gotten yourself hurt."

[sisterofswans]

She clutches the thistles tighter to herself, shakes her head again. No. She does not dare let them out of her hands.

[blessdprecious]

Pammy points at the thistles with one chubby hand. "Those are pretty."

[sisterofswans]

She smiles wryly, touches a hand to the thistles, and mouths 'ouch' -- yes, they're pretty, but they're not nice to touch.

[blessdprecious]

"Then why do you hold them?"

[sisterofswans]

A shrug. She cannot explain.