EVIE
like love is a bad word
Evie knows better than most the desire to escape the oppressive clutches of a previous home. Even her apothecary is not enough sometimes when she needs to hide from the oblivious praise her parents lord upon her, when she feels the shame of her own tainted magic like a weighted shroud only she can see. The Launcelyn Manor was as old as her own, and Evie doesn't doubt it has its own fair share of ghosts and secrets. So when she wanders across Wessex - known more by name and in passing as another natural-born than any forged friendship - standing outside the bones of an abandoned home with a stranger at her side...well Evie has to stop. Curiosity and the cat and blah blah blah.
"Good choice, especially for getting a little home away from home," she comments as she approaches, brushing back her ginger hair and staring up at the potential she can see in the house. Feels a bit of remorse for those who were forced to abandon it, those who would likely not return. Instead of lingering she turns, hands poised readily on her hips, and cocks her head with a smile. "Need another set of hands?"
