Re: Haven / Friday: After the Train
Friday wanted the ballroom too, she wanted to have one f hers, grand where she could entertain her friends, but its basis in reality was nothing more than a dream. And not even one she could fully enjoy, weaving in and out of the trees here.
And she hated these shoes. Her feet should be bare, the broken marble cool and the trees earth-warm-- she rounded a tree and kicked them off, uncaring where they ended up.
The sky was beginning to purple, even with the moon there, bloated and pristine, and she stopped mid-step to look up at it. It was between one breath and the next that she changed, an awareness returning that Friday did not have. She had changed like this once before, and it was that balking that forced her hair blonde and into long, thick braids that began at her forehead and trailed down between her shoulders. Beneath the leather chestpiece she wore a long, blue tunic, tucked into her leather breeches. A knife was strapped to her thigh, and another tucked into the back of her waistband.
Without thinking, her grip tightened on the stumble and she pulled her upright and into her body to steady her. "This town and its tricks." There was something familiar about them though -- about her now, the scent on her hair, her lean body -- "Marta."