Orb: 13th of Rebirth's Decline

[brosif]

Ghosts cling to the entryway and nothing ever remains unmarked. Unmade or undone, bone pressing on flesh. Fresh blueberries in autumn, with two moons hanging overhead in the afternoon sun. The scent of it stained her gums.

[Sif’s face is not in view. She speaks quietly, her words not intended for consumption. Her necklace has been tossed to the ground, and the only thing visible is her boots. They are caked in mud and underbrush. Her feet move about restlessly, motions as random and disconnected as her speech.]

We ever attempt substitution, until the original is opaque. Wax paper in a thunderstorm, dried out the next morning.

[ooc: Sif has Snow's visions! If you want her to read your character, give some details here.]

Comments

[demonsintheoven]

[[There is a rather pained look on Snow's face]]

They went in you, didn't they...?

[[her voice is quiet and somewhat more composed than normal]]

[shorterinperson]

Sif? Are you alright?

[thoreal]

Sif? I have been searching for you. What happened? What is this?

[halfwitch]

You sound like the crazy lady.

[ladysarmour]

My lady? Lady Sif?