Flora
Flora stepped into the Levinsward feeling a touch uneasy, her breath visible in the cool spring air despite Flowerbirth’s promise of renewal. Clad in a long, fitted charcoal coat trimmed with subtle silver embroidery—an echo of the stormy skies above—she tugs her scarf tighter around her neck. Every gust of wind sent a shiver along her spine as dark, heavy clouds churned overhead, the distant rumble of thunder punctuating the silence. Occasional flashes of lightning reveal a landscape both harsh and strangely beautiful, though the queen isn't at all drawn in by the majesty of this place.
Flora pauses near a lone, twisted oak—a silent survivor of the Levinsward’s relentless assault—her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Asta. It had been the butcher's idea to meet out here, and had the queen not had complete faith in her friend (and the knowledge that with her compads in her pocket she could escape in a heartbeat if she ever needed to), she might feel a twinge of suspicion or fear given the accusations Maea had accused him of. After all, what better way to make sure his secret never saw the light of day than to invite Flora to a secluded location in order to ensure her silence?
Flora pauses near a lone, twisted oak—a silent survivor of the Levinsward’s relentless assault—her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Asta. It had been the butcher's idea to meet out here, and had the queen not had complete faith in her friend (and the knowledge that with her compads in her pocket she could escape in a heartbeat if she ever needed to), she might feel a twinge of suspicion or fear given the accusations Maea had accused him of. After all, what better way to make sure his secret never saw the light of day than to invite Flora to a secluded location in order to ensure her silence?
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
