[P] if i were a painting

[Fiona]

"there are always flowers for those who want to see them" Fiona was no stranger to the Great Hall of Terrastella's citadel. It had hosted many gathering within its walls on the past, the most recent being the gathering of those who had been injured or left out in the cold during the floods, and the following arrival of Vespera with the gophers. Remembering the way Vespera had spoken to them, the expression she'd worn, it brought a dull throbbing to her side where she'd been injured. But now, Fiona looked at the Great Hall and saw no remains of that terrible time. Now, the fires were roaring not to dry the soaked but the stave off the winter chill. The tables were filled with food and drinks, not for the hungry, but for enjoyment. There was another addition too; the parchment and pens, pencils, paints. The Champion of Community settled in at a table, allowing the sound of surrounding conversation to pull her into some sort of creative trance. It was wonderful to her ears to hear the laughter and raucous voices, and the joy was contagious. Soon, Fiona was drawing a pen across the paper in front of her, smiling to herself and sipping an amber wine from a glass that had ended up in front of her at some point while she'd been distracted. Writing. @Corrdelia just a quick starter!

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