Carnival: Kyle & Meredith
The tent where the fortunes were told wasn't anything to write home about. Brown, small enough to be called 'intimate' without being cramped, with a sign hanging out front proclaiming 'fortunes told and palms read'. There was no line, but the ground outside was well worn, the evidence of people coming in and out quite clear.
Inside the tent, the air was warm, thick with the smell of burning incense, and scarves and other colorful fabric decorated the tent walls, creating an otherworldly environment. The lights were low and the sounds of the carnival beyond were muffled. Another world existed here, quite beyond that of the town nearby.
Or at least that's what Meredith hoped it all made people feel. It had been decorated before she took her place here, but she had been assured that the environment was quite appropriate. She had to rely on that, and she hoped, with fingers crossed, that it was passable.
Meredith herself had a seat near the back of the tent, a round table in front of her covered in emerald green fabric. There was nothing else on the table other than her folded hands, several fingers adorned with ornate rings. She was pale and slight, clad in forest green silks, her red hair a flash of fire at her face and shoulders. Around her head, however, were white bandages. Thick, worn, several layers binding her eyes, visible evidence of her lack of sight, and as she was assured by several others in the carnival, a presence that was not easily forgotten.
She heard the sound of footsteps long before she ought to have, the eager presence that approached the tent. Before Kyle could even step over the threshold, she was on her feet in a rustle of silk.