Mesnyi
I danced in the morning
When the world was begun,
When the world was begun,
N
othing about him suggested a threat. Perhaps it would be a good day for Mesnyi, perhaps she had judged wrong. She wasn’t thinking about it. She was thinking about his height, and his winter color, and what he was saying. Much more polite than some of the other men she’d met lately.”Surely where one finds something lovely, there must be another who thinks she same.” She curtsied lightly, not overly formal. ”Though I doubt you are on a camping trip,” she said, glancing over him. He didn’t carry much, at least, not as much as she did now. A leather satchel of provisions hung at her shoulder, and along her opposite side hung her glass violin’s case.
”My name is Jasmine,” she offered, tossing out her alias as if it were her own. The scent of her skin would not have been so strong in the cold weather, but it certainly hung around on a lady who hadn’t bathed recently.
She supposed there were worse perfumes that could befall a lady.
Lord of the Dance | "speaks" | notes: ☽☼☾
"You see, women are like fires, like flames. Some women are like candles, bright and friendly. Some are like single sparks, or embers, like fireflies for chasing on summer nights. Some are like campfires, all light and heat for a night and willing to be left after. Some women are like hearthfires, not much to look at but underneath they are all warm red coal that burns a long, long while."
![[Image: 26y3cfu.png]](https://i.imgur.com/26y3cfu.png)
plotter
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