Post by Cowette on Mar 21, 2011 13:24:11 GMT -8
The sky was brightly, brilliantly blue. Standing alone in the fields where she gathered her healing herbs, Rozalia soaked up the vividness of the sky. She watched some puffy white clouds drift slowly and imagined them carrying her thoughts across the wide expanse of the sky to the hidden places where her people lived when they weren’t out among the Others.
She settled down into the soft grass, grateful for her reputation as ‘strange’ and ‘foreign’ that allowed her to wear her simple, linen dresses when she chose. It gave her the freedom to move swiftly when needed and to sit here on the earth without worrying about dirtying up expensive and hard to clean fabrics.
With a little sigh she set aside her basket, still only half full, and began to take the pins from her hair. It had been fastened firmly to her head that morning in multitude of tiny braids that were woven into a sort of design she hadn’t quite been able to figure out. Her nimble fingers made quick work of freeing her curls to hang loose, the sudden freedom causing her scalp to tingle.
She looked like an entirely different person here, lounging in the grass, soaking up the sun under a bright open sky. In the castle she was a quiet presence, sometimes even forgotten. But the careful observer would see how her pale green gaze was constantly taking in the room and how she might not be a part of conversation, but that by no means meant she didn’t hear them. She was a shadow there, always present but rarely noticed.
The open space and warm sun seemed to inject her with life and color. Her hair, lightly shifting in the breeze, turned from dark brown to rich mahogany shot through with a multitude of shades from dark bronze to coppery reds. With a flush on her skin her complexion was turned from just pale white to a soft creamy white.
If you mentioned these changes to her she would just smile and say that of course she looked different, because she was different. She changed her outside to fit the situation just as a lady changes her dress to fit the social event. As her mother used to tell her ‘The inside stays the same though, which is why it is the important part, it is the part that you choose to like or love because it will never change.’
Lulled by the sun, her eyes had drifted shut and she allowed her mind to wander as it would. She thought of home and all the places she had traveled. She thought of her time as a student, learning ways to tell what made a person hurt and how to make the hurting stop. She thought of her mother, always with a wise word and a gentle touch.
She was just thinking that perhaps she should make arrangements to visit her mother some time soon when she became aware of soft footsteps coming closer. She didn’t quite recognize the sound, but that would be because she was used to hearing their gait on stone instead of dirt. She didn’t feel any need to worry, though she wasn’t in the best position to be surprised. She picked a small herb from her basket, just in case, and turned her head to see who her unexpected guest was.
She settled down into the soft grass, grateful for her reputation as ‘strange’ and ‘foreign’ that allowed her to wear her simple, linen dresses when she chose. It gave her the freedom to move swiftly when needed and to sit here on the earth without worrying about dirtying up expensive and hard to clean fabrics.
With a little sigh she set aside her basket, still only half full, and began to take the pins from her hair. It had been fastened firmly to her head that morning in multitude of tiny braids that were woven into a sort of design she hadn’t quite been able to figure out. Her nimble fingers made quick work of freeing her curls to hang loose, the sudden freedom causing her scalp to tingle.
She looked like an entirely different person here, lounging in the grass, soaking up the sun under a bright open sky. In the castle she was a quiet presence, sometimes even forgotten. But the careful observer would see how her pale green gaze was constantly taking in the room and how she might not be a part of conversation, but that by no means meant she didn’t hear them. She was a shadow there, always present but rarely noticed.
The open space and warm sun seemed to inject her with life and color. Her hair, lightly shifting in the breeze, turned from dark brown to rich mahogany shot through with a multitude of shades from dark bronze to coppery reds. With a flush on her skin her complexion was turned from just pale white to a soft creamy white.
If you mentioned these changes to her she would just smile and say that of course she looked different, because she was different. She changed her outside to fit the situation just as a lady changes her dress to fit the social event. As her mother used to tell her ‘The inside stays the same though, which is why it is the important part, it is the part that you choose to like or love because it will never change.’
Lulled by the sun, her eyes had drifted shut and she allowed her mind to wander as it would. She thought of home and all the places she had traveled. She thought of her time as a student, learning ways to tell what made a person hurt and how to make the hurting stop. She thought of her mother, always with a wise word and a gentle touch.
She was just thinking that perhaps she should make arrangements to visit her mother some time soon when she became aware of soft footsteps coming closer. She didn’t quite recognize the sound, but that would be because she was used to hearing their gait on stone instead of dirt. She didn’t feel any need to worry, though she wasn’t in the best position to be surprised. She picked a small herb from her basket, just in case, and turned her head to see who her unexpected guest was.
