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[ebon_divinity]

Here is Rosana, with scratches on her shins and berry stains on her fingers, walking restlessly at the edge of the woods, trying to tuck her hair back into its fraying braid.

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[le_desirous]

"My lady," an easy voice from one side.

[ebon_divinity]

She looks up, eyebrows lifting. "Who're you talking to, then?"

[le_desirous]

"One can never be entirely sure."

[ebon_divinity]

Rosana laughs. "That's so. Damned place is full of lords and ladies."

[freyborg_fenix]

And here is Stock, coming in the opposite direction, hands in his pockets, staring up at the sky and whistling aimlessly as he walks, a repetitive, annoyingly cheerful tune that stops when he catches sight of Rosana.

"--Rosana!"

[ebon_divinity]

"Hullo!"

[freyborg_fenix]

He smiles broadly. "How're you?"

[ebon_divinity]

She shrugs. "All right. You?"