the road less traveled
His golden frame was a stark difference to the moon's silver hues. When he approached, appearing before her, Willoughby did not so much as blink. The maiden's lips curled into a welcoming smile, dipping her head with a light giggle escaping her jaws. "Perhaps" she says to the stranger, ceasing her steps and coming to a halt "yet you see and meet all sorts of curious people at night..."
Willoughby trails off, tilting her head slightly. She was too polite to redirect it at him, that perhaps he should not be wandering outside at night either. She finds she does not care to direct others; let them live their life the way they want. What business was it of hers what this man did? He did not know her, and she did not know him. Having no formal place of residence, the maiden knew not else to do.
@Atlas / speaks / ty for joining!
