Mine To Find [Seasonal Event]

lily from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire Welp. Lily can’t rely on the kindness of strangers forever; it’s odd, she has absolutely no problem taking from wealthy men who want to use for whatever reason, but she can’t bring herself to be greedy with these folk. Her brief observations tell her that no one here is ‘wealthy’ in the conventional sense, there is only those who have been here longer, were born here, and those who periodically get sucked in and survive or perish. She falls into the last category, and while their kindness is much appreciated, she knows that sooner or later this little lady will have to work up some calluses. She looks mournfully at her delicate, white hands - so slim and elegant, perfect for quickly plucking strings or playing piano keys, and yet tight enough to coax coin from a man’s pants - and pockets. So long, gentle touches! Goodbye, soft skin! Here come the marks of a servant again, which draw forth a sudden welling of hot tears and then subsequent chastisement. Lily hastily wipes the tears away. It was foolish to cry over something essential like life and death. Best to just get on with it - either the living or the dying, it doesn’t matter which. Lily throws on a coat that is much too big for her (the only one someone could find) over the fur breeches and shirt - all clothing designed for a man, but beggars can’t be choosers - and she sets off to - well, do something useful. Determined, actually. Hence the very early morning start. Turns out it’s just a tad too early to ask about the shops, so she wanders until she finds a lone figure at the edge of the field. Try as she might, and despite the wonderful freedom of pants, she isn’t anywhere near as stealthy as Deimos is. It wouldn’t be surprising if he could hear her coming before she’s within talking distance.