I was going, Mother, to pick roses, to find death

MaeA Turning back towards the stairs at the sound of feet coming down the stair, Maea smiled at Sunjata, clearly glad to see him. Having his looming silhouette here within her refuge was new and rather interesting, an experience that made her stomach flutter traitorously. Both because of the reason he was here, and because, well... it was him, and that seemed reason enough for butterflies these days. Before she could answer, the door was opened and Jigano replied. Raising a pale brow, the girl indicated the bard with a gesture and a lopsided grin towards Sunjata; "So it seems,". Peering into the room beyond, she trailed her eyes over its contents with the same curiosity as usual. Always there was something new to look at, some recent addition to the collection of books, a curiosity or item of significance to inspect. It never ceased to amaze her how the Provost managed to juggle his guild with the other tasks he took upon himself. At his questions, she threw a thoughtful look at Sunjata, considering. "It's more a request, I would say... I asked him to come today. Perhaps... tea might be a good place to start." Maea was unsure how to broach this subject, knowing it would no doubt lead to quite the discussion. Rifling through the papers she carried, she picked out about a third of them and offered them to her guildmaster. "First, here is my report on our exploration of the mine," she told him, brisk and efficient - she wanted this out of the way before they focused on other things. "I added a section with personal reflections on our purpose in going there, as you asked." It was as neat and efficient as she was currently able to make it; compared to her earliest writing it was rather improved, and if the letters were a touch bigger and more uneven than they ought to be, it was already negligibel. Maea had worked hard, and had the callouses and ink-splattered hands to prove it. you're so cold, but you feel alive.