strangeness and
It feels like so much more time has passed since she was last in Terrastella. The swamp feels different to her in a way that she can't explain it. Maybe it feels bitter about her leaving after living here and tending to it for so long.
Still, it manages to welcome her back like an old friend as the sounds and smells fill her senses. Like the Dawn Court, it seems Dusk is holding some fall festivities of their own. When she first had arrived, she was surprised to see an apple orchard along the outskirts of the swamp. Without hesitation, she picked up a basket and started to harvest some apples, at least one of each color. Another horse made her aware of the tradition in exchange for picking the fruit and Corr makes a mental note to do so before she leaves today.
The mare has made her way down a row of yellow apples when she hears a commotion back by the orchard's entrance. Corr looks up to see another mare looking curiously down at the wicker baskets. Faintly she can hear the woman talking to herself. Feeling curious herself, Corr decides to walk back over to see what's going on.
It appears either the woman knocked into the baskets or something else happened because they're no longer stacked up neatly. She can't help but laugh at the scene, but tries to hold it in as much as she can. From the other mare's expression, it's clear she isn't sure how this works.
"Feel free to take a basket for yourself," she instructs with a smile, gesturing at her own. Some of the apples roll around in the basket as she moves. "It's for Dusk's fall celebration. You can pick as many apples as you'd like, so long as you plant a seed for each one you pick."
After looking closely at the woman, she's certainly not anyone she's met before, both in Delumine and Terrastella. "I'm Corrdelia, resident psychic and crow witch of Delumine," she says with a brief bow. For a moment, she almost said Terrastella, but she's slowly been able to grow out of the habit.
On her shoulder, Hāsta is slumped to the side, with her feet fastened by the cord around Corrdelia's neck. In her mind, the bird is grumpy as usual and wishing they had just stayed home. "This is Hāsta, but don't mind her, she's just a grumpy old bird," the mare laughs, listening to the bird squawk in her mind. The crow has certainly never been the best company, but Corr is used to it by now.
"Speaking."
charm
It feels like so much more time has passed since she was last in Terrastella. The swamp feels different to her in a way that she can't explain it. Maybe it feels bitter about her leaving after living here and tending to it for so long.
Still, it manages to welcome her back like an old friend as the sounds and smells fill her senses. Like the Dawn Court, it seems Dusk is holding some fall festivities of their own. When she first had arrived, she was surprised to see an apple orchard along the outskirts of the swamp. Without hesitation, she picked up a basket and started to harvest some apples, at least one of each color. Another horse made her aware of the tradition in exchange for picking the fruit and Corr makes a mental note to do so before she leaves today.
The mare has made her way down a row of yellow apples when she hears a commotion back by the orchard's entrance. Corr looks up to see another mare looking curiously down at the wicker baskets. Faintly she can hear the woman talking to herself. Feeling curious herself, Corr decides to walk back over to see what's going on.
It appears either the woman knocked into the baskets or something else happened because they're no longer stacked up neatly. She can't help but laugh at the scene, but tries to hold it in as much as she can. From the other mare's expression, it's clear she isn't sure how this works.
"Feel free to take a basket for yourself," she instructs with a smile, gesturing at her own. Some of the apples roll around in the basket as she moves. "It's for Dusk's fall celebration. You can pick as many apples as you'd like, so long as you plant a seed for each one you pick."
After looking closely at the woman, she's certainly not anyone she's met before, both in Delumine and Terrastella. "I'm Corrdelia, resident psychic and crow witch of Delumine," she says with a brief bow. For a moment, she almost said Terrastella, but she's slowly been able to grow out of the habit.
On her shoulder, Hāsta is slumped to the side, with her feet fastened by the cord around Corrdelia's neck. In her mind, the bird is grumpy as usual and wishing they had just stayed home. "This is Hāsta, but don't mind her, she's just a grumpy old bird," the mare laughs, listening to the bird squawk in her mind. The crow has certainly never been the best company, but Corr is used to it by now.
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