Andreth has been far afield these past few weeks, getting her bearings on life, and prefering outdoor solitude to the busy and crowded Mansion. So there are summer flowers in her room, and interesting leaves pressed into her books. One evening, one of these is open on her lap (with a wayward edge of maple-leaf peeking out from between the pages);
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"Good evening," she says, closing her book.
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She looks out over the grounds. "I've been away. Out." She's a fighting naturalist too, apparently.
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