InsaneJournal

Sitting on her bed after doing a day's worth of helping Henn with the inventory downstairs, and even dusting a whole room's worth of bookshelves, banisters, windowsills and decorations, was a young Stillman. She'd spent a couple days in this world now, mostly cooped up in her new room, with a door that locked from the inside for a change, a laptop, a new wardrobe, and a few books she snagged off the downstairs bookshelves.

She'd gotten to know a couple of the other residents of Guildhall, namely her brother's wife, daughter, and son. She stayed clear and away from the blind man, Sands, but she found herself peculiarly fond of the elf. Perhaps it was because Zevran was not human, or maybe it was his smooth and easy way of talking and moving that set her at ease. Maybe it was his intriguing stories of his home that made her feel more comfortable around him than any man other than Artan. It didn't really matter, because she liked talking to him. Which is why she stood up and bounced off her bed, landing on the floor with a quiet thump of the balls of her feet, before padding silently to the door and down the stairs, staying as close to the wall as she could possibly be. She made a quick detour for a granola bar, and once that was had, she walked to where she figured she'd find Zev, in the main living area, the room with a constantly lit fireplace, and all the books.

She slipped in, silent as death, and sat down on the couch, immediately pulling her legs to her chest, and unwrapped the granola bar quietly.