(no subject)

[white_flowers]

Her step is light when she comes in, and she is smiling. As is customary for her, she is dressed in white-- save for the glint of blue from the necklace at her throat. A pretty gift, it is, and one she seems fond of.

Blodwen settles at a corner table and takes a soft cloud of synthfiber from her work-bag, then begins to tease it into a fragile piece of knitted lace as needles flash and click.

It's a soothing rhythm, really-- almost hypnotic.

Click. Flash. Click.