SAFRIN
Don't be scared. Safrin whispers to Ronin and Amalia, her voice like the rush of spring water through their minds.
When they appear from the darkness and haze of whatever it was they were doing before, it will be to see Safrin standing beneath an oak tree, its boughs magnificent and bursting with starlight. Dressed in a white gown, her hair in luxurious plaits interspersed with golden circlets, Safrin has never looked more like a goddess than she does now. Her chin held high and her face an exquisitely painted mask of utter delight (despite whatever she might be feeling on the inside), she gestures to those who fall under her banner.
When they appear from the darkness and haze of whatever it was they were doing before, it will be to see Safrin standing beneath an oak tree, its boughs magnificent and bursting with starlight. Dressed in a white gown, her hair in luxurious plaits interspersed with golden circlets, Safrin has never looked more like a goddess than she does now. Her chin held high and her face an exquisitely painted mask of utter delight (despite whatever she might be feeling on the inside), she gestures to those who fall under her banner.
