Maeve
What should be a simple task is likely not that simple at all. How does one go about collecting a burning feather? How does one even handle it? With great care, most likely. So Maeve has done what she can to prepare. She traded for some smithing tools. A pair of tongs so she might be able to handle the feather and a container that is supposedly able to handle high heat. It's not much, but it's all she really knew to do in an attempt to make this easier. They lay on the ground beside her, ready to be used as soon as the need arises.
The Nightshade waits in the garden for Ronin, sitting on the edge of the fountain, staring out at the sea through the open pillars. Aidon rests comfortably at her feet, lounging on the still sun warm stone, tail flicking lazily as orange eyes scan their surroundings. Her hand lays lightly against her belly, thumb swiping across it lazily as her thoughts wander, not lingering on any one topic long.
The Nightshade waits in the garden for Ronin, sitting on the edge of the fountain, staring out at the sea through the open pillars. Aidon rests comfortably at her feet, lounging on the still sun warm stone, tail flicking lazily as orange eyes scan their surroundings. Her hand lays lightly against her belly, thumb swiping across it lazily as her thoughts wander, not lingering on any one topic long.
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
catching my death
Staring out an open window
catching my death
