Vervain
”Or maybe Vi has spilled his cup of water before bed.” Vervain’s voice was a soft thing, almost lost in the downpour. The witch was soaked through, having walked up from the beach towards the Governor’s house, a route which naturally took her past the lighthouse and the marker beside it. There was a satchel slung over her shoulder, her hair braided messily out of her face.
Really she hadn’t even intended to speak with Remi until he heard his voice, having given the Alchemist his space since the night on the beach when she had been left to care for Seren. ”It’s nice to see you out here,” she remarked, standing outside his magical barrier and glancing from the grave to the choppy waves beyond.
Really she hadn’t even intended to speak with Remi until he heard his voice, having given the Alchemist his space since the night on the beach when she had been left to care for Seren. ”It’s nice to see you out here,” she remarked, standing outside his magical barrier and glancing from the grave to the choppy waves beyond.
