A song bird twittered softly beyond the window as if it called to the sun.
Mag perched at the window, curled into the crevasse of satin and plilows built into the lip of the sill. Her bright eyes peered through the panes of the window at that darkness which had settled comfortably around the mansion. Like so many mornings before it and like it would so many mornings after, that presence called to her.
A pale hand clutched at the fabric of the cape that draped her shoulders protecting her modesty over the lengthy nightdress that still coated her skin. Like a ghost she haunted the window unable to sleep. A blackness plagued her, she felt sick with it. It lingered deep inside of her worse now than it had before she'd arrived in this world.
How could she expect things to change? To progress? This was not her home and for that she was grateful. She was not a prisoner here and yet she couldn't bring herself to leave. That felt like escaping but she'd always been running, ever since she was a young girl.
That twitter came again and Mag managed a grateful smile and a soft breath. Music had always been her lifeline, the one constant that had been there in her darkest moments.