As the sun moves higher in the sky, the light that filters through the window of the room slowly brightens. Long-used to rising early to tend to matters at the stable, she's been awake for a while.

This morning, however, she hasn't yet stirred to leave Cuthbert's side-- instead, Susan is quiet, watching him sleep, a soft smile on her face.

She leads the way back to her room and opens the door, then walks in and goes to stand near the small sofa.

There she's quiet, waiting, with her arms wrapped around herself. Susan can't quite look at him.

Stable Manager:
* Susan Delgado (sai_delgado)

Official Employees:
* Alain Johns (honest_johns)
* Caspian X (the_seafarer)
* Lisa Atwood (logical_prancer)

Unofficial, but Regular Volunteers:
* Sheemie Ruiz (pink_sombrera)
* Gavroche (street_sparrow)
* Alanna of Trebond (a_lioness)
* Galahad du Lac (garcon_dor)
* Clarice Starling (no_more_chianti)
* Edmund Pevensie (iustus_rex)

Susan is sitting at the desk in her room, working on records. Currently, she's going over the list of those who might be good candidates to take on what was Clarice's job.

( After talking with Bernard by Crowley's grave, about Nymphadora. Spoilers for DT4. )

After speaking with the Dream-lord earlier, Susan had returned to her room soon afterwards-- with a child in her arms ( Read more... )

The world moves on. She's known it since she were eleven, say true-- since the day they buried Pat Delgado.

And there's that which still needs doing-- the horses (of courses) need tending, among other things. She goes about her routine, and if the familiar habits of her work help to soothe the ache of losing another friend--

(I saw that a ( Read more... )

The room is quiet and still and neatly kept, save for a badge lying on the table in front of the window, as though it has been haphazardly tossed there for the time being.

Dawn is still some time away, and Susan Delgado is asleep.

It's rarely much past sunrise when Susan goes to the stables of a morning, and today is no different. She enjoys it, say true-- this early hour outdoors with few or no people around, the sight of the dew on the grass shining as the first light falls on it, the simple peace that comes with dawn ( Read more... )

(Left with the bar, before she slept, and written out with great care.)

Dear Cuthbert ( Read more... )