Ordinarily, especially on a first date, Lena would’ve been dressed to impress. But given the day’s circumstances, including fleeing from banshees, collecting sweetgrass and dragon scales, and lugging said items with them, she was as collected as she was going to be. Which meant her hair was pulled back and out of her face, her dress had several grass stains on it, and she’d polished her look off with a bulging bag of wares for when they returned to Stormbreak. But for all of the messy configurations, she wore her contentment best, a little serene smile as they traversed out of the wilderness and into the forefront of the Inner Quarter.
Chattering away until her curiosity got the best of her, she was initially spun into silence at the sight of the bonfire. Eyes widened, she glanced back at Zavien, before meandering along the outer edges, where the heat was still a little tolerable. “Isn’t this amazing?” she whispered, clearly a tourist in awe. Keeping Mittens tethered at her side, for fear it would melt if it went any closer to the unwinding flaes, her eyes peered over people milling about, and then the storefronts.
The Ancients had clearly done wonders for the Grounds – for it was far more inhabitable than it had ever been. Maybe it still carried those primordial sorrows somewhere, lodged in between new foundations and old stones, but for now, it was a growing marketplace, amidst guilds and farmland.
And restaurants, of course.
The smell of some kind of barbeque filled the air, along with aromas of nearby bakeries, kiosks and stands – promises of pasta from one area, and some cozy, home-style cooking from another. With so many possibilities before them, and a steadily blooming appetite, the Caretaker wasn’t picky about the selection. Sweeping her grin and rosy cheeks towards the Dragoon, she pondered over the readily available choices, and what he’d prefer. “Any of them catch your eye?”
Chattering away until her curiosity got the best of her, she was initially spun into silence at the sight of the bonfire. Eyes widened, she glanced back at Zavien, before meandering along the outer edges, where the heat was still a little tolerable. “Isn’t this amazing?” she whispered, clearly a tourist in awe. Keeping Mittens tethered at her side, for fear it would melt if it went any closer to the unwinding flaes, her eyes peered over people milling about, and then the storefronts.
The Ancients had clearly done wonders for the Grounds – for it was far more inhabitable than it had ever been. Maybe it still carried those primordial sorrows somewhere, lodged in between new foundations and old stones, but for now, it was a growing marketplace, amidst guilds and farmland.
And restaurants, of course.
The smell of some kind of barbeque filled the air, along with aromas of nearby bakeries, kiosks and stands – promises of pasta from one area, and some cozy, home-style cooking from another. With so many possibilities before them, and a steadily blooming appetite, the Caretaker wasn’t picky about the selection. Sweeping her grin and rosy cheeks towards the Dragoon, she pondered over the readily available choices, and what he’d prefer. “Any of them catch your eye?”
Lena
