[ As it always is – as it always should be – it's a picture perfect summer's day in Libretto. The season turned from gentle spring to searing summer some months ago and the days have been balmy and hot ever since. It's the sort of weather she likes best, after all - hot enough to feel like a novelty when you step out into the sun, not enough to sap your energy but with just enough bite that you can enjoy the simple relief of a cool breeze or the moments you take to duck into the shade.
Everything's in order, exactly the way Camellia has it written. Not a single line out of place. That much, at least, she can feel secure in as she makes her way through the town square that day. She exchanges nods and murmurs of greetings with some of the people living here and thinks – how nice it is to feel sure that everything is fixed in place and unmoving, at least for today.
Of course, with a perfect bit of timing, that's the exact moment she feels a stray thread come unravelled away from the rest of the tapestry. It happens abruptly enough that she comes to a stop where she is and turns to find the source of it. Her eyes happen upon it immediately and it is and isn't what she expects all at once.
She's... just a girl. Small and made smaller still, somehow, by the waterfall of ringlets that runs down her back. She's dressed almost perfectly for summer but Camellia realizes at the last moment that she's not even wearing shoes – in this weather? Surely her feet must hurt, from the heat of the concrete if nothing else.
Camellia watches her for a long moment, waiting for that feeling of lacking resolution, of an untied seam to resolve itself. When it doesn't, she takes a few steps forward and calls out. ]
Excuse me. [ Her voice is low and gentle but it carries through the noise and bustle even so. ] You're a new arrival, aren't you?
no subject
Everything's in order, exactly the way Camellia has it written. Not a single line out of place. That much, at least, she can feel secure in as she makes her way through the town square that day. She exchanges nods and murmurs of greetings with some of the people living here and thinks – how nice it is to feel sure that everything is fixed in place and unmoving, at least for today.
Of course, with a perfect bit of timing, that's the exact moment she feels a stray thread come unravelled away from the rest of the tapestry. It happens abruptly enough that she comes to a stop where she is and turns to find the source of it. Her eyes happen upon it immediately and it is and isn't what she expects all at once.
She's... just a girl. Small and made smaller still, somehow, by the waterfall of ringlets that runs down her back. She's dressed almost perfectly for summer but Camellia realizes at the last moment that she's not even wearing shoes – in this weather? Surely her feet must hurt, from the heat of the concrete if nothing else.
Camellia watches her for a long moment, waiting for that feeling of lacking resolution, of an untied seam to resolve itself. When it doesn't, she takes a few steps forward and calls out. ]
Excuse me. [ Her voice is low and gentle but it carries through the noise and bustle even so. ] You're a new arrival, aren't you?