AISHA
Aisha had been to the Greatwood only once, but the mystical forest had made an impression. It was a strange kind of comforting, caressed in the fronds and foliage of a place buzzing with energy. Unlike other forests, the Greatwood took the lead, guiding her rather than allowing her to navigate. It was somehow freeing, relinquishing control if only for a moment. There she had met a fae, kind enough to lead her to a shrine. And there she came across a spirit, a small spritely thing, who had asked her to promise to protect the Greatwood, to remember the Mathair.
So the parchment attached to the notice board had caught her eye, the message and the signature. She'd heard of the alchemist, but never met the man. She arrived at the Kraai cloaked in her sheepskins, hit by the humid heat of the bar she began to remove her layers, laying them atop a bar stool. Beneath she wore a tank top, eggshell in color, allowing the warmth to touch her shoulders, or what skin there wasn't clouded by her curls.
Remi seemed the obvious stranger, the one with his head down, the one she didn't recognize. So she moved his way, pulling out a chair opposite him and leaning back. "You're the Greatwood guy yeah?"
So the parchment attached to the notice board had caught her eye, the message and the signature. She'd heard of the alchemist, but never met the man. She arrived at the Kraai cloaked in her sheepskins, hit by the humid heat of the bar she began to remove her layers, laying them atop a bar stool. Beneath she wore a tank top, eggshell in color, allowing the warmth to touch her shoulders, or what skin there wasn't clouded by her curls.
Remi seemed the obvious stranger, the one with his head down, the one she didn't recognize. So she moved his way, pulling out a chair opposite him and leaning back. "You're the Greatwood guy yeah?"
and it's all in the way that you talk
starts with a whisper
starts with a whisper
ends with a shout
