Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
She wanders. It is a new dawn, a new day, and the opportunities stretching before her feel boundless. Though she has been here but a short time, her past already feels so very far away. She wonders, at times, if perhaps this newfound peace and security are too good to be true, if she has dropped her guard too soon, if she will be found and entangled once more in the web of shadow and deceit from whence she came—
But then another day comes, just as it has each morning before, ushering her forward into this new life. She is not without doubts, without fears; after all, she has yet to really find her place in this new land. She has joined the Dawn Court, and she has no reason to regret the decision, but it is all so new. She has a chance to build a new life here, a new self. Who will she be when the curtains fall and the dust settles?
She finds herself, today, in the Library. It is not her first such trip, as she has found that the tomes within feed her battered soul, breathing life back into her weary body. She spends most of her time perusing the history of this land, learning of all that came before in her new home. So, too, does she explore its fables and legends; after all, she is a performer, and what is she without tales to tell?
A gasp interrupts her as she browses for a particular scroll, and as she turns towards its source she notices a stack of items weaving dangerously in the air. Without thinking, she reaches out with a wing, attempting to help their carrier stabilize the precarious pile. “Careful!” she exclaims with a charming laugh, “These will be much better use to you if they aren’t scattered on the floor, won’t they, darling?” She offers a smile, peering around the stack to take in the newcomer. It occurs to her that this is the second equine to literally run into her since her arrival in Novus, and she wonders if perhaps it is a peculiar social greeting in this strange land.
Either way, she is in a fine mood, and it seems a waste to spend the afternoon alone. She gestures towards a nearby pile of blankets and pillows, large enough to accommodate multiple equines comfortably. “If you’d like, you can leave those over there with mine while you look for more. I’d welcome the company.”
Mask Image -- IgnisFatuusII
Poem Excerpt -- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
@Solstice
