The ear is the avenue to the heart.
The cold of the Hollowed Grounds couldn't compete with Halo, but it could certainly try. Elizabeth pulled the fluffy earmuffs over her reddening ears to keep them from hitting the burning stage of cold exposure. The soft brown leather of her insulated gloves fell back down to her dark pink jacket and into the pockets to further protect them. The jacket was her favorite, hanging to a flattering length around mid-thigh that gave the illusion of a dress despite her traveling pants and boots beneath. To add to its many perks, it even had a stretch of fur around the neck that kept her perfectly content in the flurry of snow.
Her appearance was professional, fitting with her own reasoning for being within the land of the Ancients. Because even Dygra's children needed help mediating family dynamics at times. Another crisis divorce had been diverted through open communication and gentle mediation (and some kind reminders that making decisions in the midst of a bloodlust craze was not the wisest). Everyone had left the session with a plan for improvement built on mutual love and respect.
Overall, she'd call the trip a success deserving of a little shopping.
Elizabeth ignored the way the snowflakes burrowed into her brown hair as she approached a particularly sparkly booth full of glass configurations. They shone in the torchlight, highlighting the expert craftsmanship of each piece. If she'd had more money, she might have considered purchasing a set of the gorgeous wine glasses the woman next to her was holding; but the shop owner seemed perturbed, and she only had the funds for a few small pieces. Searching the table, she finally asked, "Do you have anything like a bookmark?"
Her appearance was professional, fitting with her own reasoning for being within the land of the Ancients. Because even Dygra's children needed help mediating family dynamics at times. Another crisis divorce had been diverted through open communication and gentle mediation (and some kind reminders that making decisions in the midst of a bloodlust craze was not the wisest). Everyone had left the session with a plan for improvement built on mutual love and respect.
Overall, she'd call the trip a success deserving of a little shopping.
Elizabeth ignored the way the snowflakes burrowed into her brown hair as she approached a particularly sparkly booth full of glass configurations. They shone in the torchlight, highlighting the expert craftsmanship of each piece. If she'd had more money, she might have considered purchasing a set of the gorgeous wine glasses the woman next to her was holding; but the shop owner seemed perturbed, and she only had the funds for a few small pieces. Searching the table, she finally asked, "Do you have anything like a bookmark?"
Elizabeth
