| Along the Champs-Élysées [ open ] |
[07 Nov 2008|03:30pm] |
Iris stared at her palm. Or, more correctly, she stared at the object that was sitting in the palm of her hand. She'd stared at it for a while after Philotes had given it to her, then set it on the table to be temporarily forgotten about, before picking it up and staring at it again. Blue and white, a very pretty little thing, but not something that she was all that sure why Philotes had given it to her.
What was Philotes doing with a thimble and more importantly, what was Iris going to do with it now that she had it? She had no need for it and if she left it lying around it was bound to raise questions as to just what was occupying the messenger's spare time that sewing implements were to be found around her house.
( That would never do. )
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