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About Frida Ricci

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  1. Trying to decide what Frida would be doing. Partly depends on what the options are. Could we get an idea of what's going to happen? One thread, two threads, that sort of thing?
  2. "...I know, Mum. Of course I'm your daughter, you raised me. But.. why didn't you tell me?" "Well, we always meant to. It was just that, well, you had so many other things on your mind, dear. And you always seemed to feel so different from other children your age. We never wanted you to feel different in your own family too." Frida had a suspicion that her feelings of alienation might have more to do with the fact that she might be related to the living dead than the fact that she was adopted... but she refrained from making that particular comment to her mother. There was silence on the line for a moment, then her mother chimed in again, her voice tinged with concern. "Frida, darling, why don't you pop up to New York this weekend for a little visit? We could all go out for a nice dinner, and maybe have an evening at the symphony if you'd like." "That sounds lovely, Mum, but maybe not this weekend." "Oh but darling, we'd love to see you, and--" "Mum, it's okay. I'm fine, I just.. have a test Monday, and I should study. It's mathematics, not my strongest subject, you know?" "Oh darling, you do fine." "I know, I just.. need to study a bit. Maybe in a couple weeks or something?" "Of course, luv. You call me anytime, and we'll make it happen, okay? Your father and I miss you while you're away at that school. Maybe at end of semester, we should move you back up here to the city. There's plenty of private schools on the east coast, you'd only be a couple hours away then, and Daddy and I could visit on the weekends sometimes." "Maybe, Mum. I don't know.. I do kind of like it here. We'll see, alright?" "Oh.. well, alright. As long as you're happy, you know we--" "Mum, it's fine. Go on, you've got a reservation." "Oh, yes. Of course. I love you, darling." "You too, Mum." Frida sat there for awhile after the line went dead, the cordless phone resting in her lap, her gaze lingering on the numbers as she relived the conversation, and the last few days. What a strange, strange month. It was as if her entire world had been turned on it's head, and she wasn't entirely sure she liked the feeling. Being 'outside' had been comfortable, and easy. And lazy. How uninteresting of you. Odd, that she would discover this part of herself at the same time she felt as if she was waking up, and becoming more a part of life. She owed that to Ravi, she suspected.. not just because of their tryst in the forest, but because of how she felt when she was around him - his liveliness, his vitality. It was so different, so unusual, and he'd reached in and touched her with it, and awoken a desire for more. More friends, more passion, more.. involvement. She was tired, all of a sudden, of sitting by and watching everything. Maybe I'm only half-dead. She let out an amused, slightly edgy little laugh. And as if drawn by her very thoughts, the devil himself poked his head in the doorway. "Frida? What on earth are you doing in here?" "Ravi. I was just..." She glanced at the phone, still in her lap, and then sat it back down on the base on his grandfather's desk. "Phoning home. How are you doing? Have they taught you everything about being a manther?" She asked the question seriously, but her eyes sparkled playfully at him, and he laughed as he crossed the room towards her. "Not nearly everything. There's so much to learn, so much to make up for. The others are planning to go.. Ryan has done something, he said he could go back and try to open the door. The others are making plans for what to do if he fails. But.. I'm staying here for now, Frida. I have seventeen years of catching up to do.. all the things that I don't know about what I am. There's no way I can learn it all overnight." She stood, and tilted her head at him thoughtfully. "Mari will miss you dreadfully." "I have a feeling that after everything that's happened, Mari will be secretly relieved to see me stay. That, or she'll be too busy fretting over my immortal soul to actually miss me." She stepped towards him, her gaze intense as always, and reached up to touch his face gently with her fingertips. "I will miss you dreadfully." "Now that, I believe." Their gazes lingered for a moment, but this time she didn't give him the opportunity to turn her down. After all, he was staying behind, she was going back.. to Dalton, or New York, or through the doors, she didn't know yet. But if she might not ever see him again, she wasn't going to pass up her last opportunity because of some foolish morality issue she didn't care about in the slightest. Whatever Ravi might or might not feel for Mari, he was still the first person who'd ever really made her feel alive.. and if she truly was born of the living dead, that might have been more of an accomplishment than either of them had realized at the time. Maybe it was only Ravi's unique vitality that made her feel that way, and who knew if she would ever feel that about anyone ever again. So she slipped her hand behind his neck and pulled him down, lifting herself up on tip-toes, and pressed her lips firmly to his. He let out a low, feline growl in the back of his throat and wrapped an arm around her waist in return, pulling her body against his and returning her passionate goodbye in earnest. She reveled in it, feeling that crackle of electricity race through her, feeling the warmth of his touch as it burned it's way into her blood. But she pulled away after too short a period of time, unaware that he had already strayed in his promises of loyalty to Mari back during their journey to Heartstone, unwilling to linger long enough for Ravi to come to his senses and reject her again, as he had their last night at Dalton. "Goodbye for now, Ravi. I hope to see you again. You have my number, call me anytime. You are my best and closest friend." And she hurried out of the room before he could say anything to ruin her goodbye, and before her tumultuous emotions got the better of her.
  3. Eep. Just realized how far behind I am in this. Will try to get a post up in the next day or two folks, I promise. It's next on my list.
  4. Frida murmured her thanks to Sean for his offer to accompany her, and then quietly drifted into the background again. Though the others continued to talk (and eat), she sat quietly at the table, mostly sipping her glass of water thoughtfully. “The Janin are rumored to be ghosts. Literal ghosts. They are said to be the former dead who have found a new way to live. That they live and breed somehow, that they can speak to and command the dead.” But how can that be? Mother and Father aren't strange, not like I am. Nor is Caro. I mean, we are all talented artists, but I am the only one who is.. unnatural. Wraith-like. Suddenly she stood, startling the few remaining diners. She had been so quiet since her discussion with Ravi's grandfather that the others had, for the most part, forgotten her presence. She laid her napkin down as she stood, and slid the chair back into place. "Please excuse me.. I believe I have a phone call to make as well." She made her way down the hall to the office. This room, while still decorated artfully in a traditional manner, was obviously more utilitarian. A laptop sat on the large wood and leather-inset desk, powered-down and plugged in to charge. Along the back wall behind the desk was a built-in combination of bookshelves and filing cabinets. Quietly, Frida walked over to the desk and picked up the modern-looking cordless phone. Then she sat down in one of the large reading chairs, and began to dial. Unlike Sean, she knew her parent's international cell phone codes, for the Ricci family traveled often and everywhere, and not always in one unit. She listened nervously as the phone rang, and drew in a deep breath as she heard the line connect. "Hello?" "Hello, Mum." "Frida! How lovely to hear from you darling, is everything alright?" "Yes, Mum. I'm.. I'm sorry I missed your phone call Saturday." "Did you? Oh my - darling, I don't think you did. I absolutely meant to call, and I must have gotten utterly distracted. I'm so sorry! I hope you're doing well?" Frida paused for a moment, surprise flickering across her face, though her mother couldn't see it over the phone. In all her time at Dalton, her mother had never missed a weekend phone call. How unlikely it seemed that the weekend she was away would just happen to be the weekend her mother didn't call. "Th-that's alright, Mum. How are you?" "I'm just fine, dear. Where are you calling from, by the way? This isn't your number." "A friend's phone, Mum. My phone is charging. He's.. from India." That should hopefully explain the international code, at least. "Oh that's lovely! Such a beautiful place, we really should take you and your brother to visit. You'd love it there. Is he handsome?" "P-pardon?" "Your friend - is he handsome? I've never heard you mention him before, you so rarely make close friends, Frida. Is this young man good-looking?" Frida felt the flush creep up her cheeks at her mother's question, and glanced around to make sure no one else was near the office before answering. It would be her luck that Mari would be nearby and would overhear, for some reason. Best to get her mother off the topic quickly - and to keep her from getting her hopes up too high. "Yes Mum, but he's just a friend." "Oh." She heard the pause, the doubt in her mother's tone, even with that single-word response. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're making friends, darling. Feel free to invite any of them to the penthouse this summer if you'd like, we'll be in the city till at last July, your father has some business to attend to before we can vacation." "Thanks, Mum." There was silence for a moment as Frida turned the question over and over in her mind, trying to figure out the best way to ask. "Frida love, I do hate to cut this short, I'm so terribly sorry. But we have reservations tonight, so I need to--" "Am I adopted, Mum?" "--what?" "You heard me. Am I adopted?"
  5. "You should contact your father first, Sean.. before the rest of us. I am interesting in finding out if the school has bothered to notify our parents of our disappearance, considering the upper-administration is aware of what's going on. And since your father is aware of the presence of the doors, it will at least let us gauge the situation before the rest of us call our parents. Though if it's been a week I will have missed my parents' weekly phone call, and they will be concerned about my whereabouts regardless, unless the school has fed them some sort of lie." She hesitated, her eyes flickering towards the door where Lucia had hurried out. She was considering going to check on her, but she was uncertain whether she would welcome her interest. The other girl had seemed upset, but Frida was always hesitant about approaching people who were in emotional distress.. they rarely seemed to respond well to her presence. Perhaps she didn't know the right things to say, although it was more common for her to say little before she was told to go away, that they didn't want her help (although it was rarely said quite so politely). But there was another reason for her hesitation. The Chiderans hadn't any answers to her questions, but this might be her only opportunity to speak with Ravi's family, with other people knowledgable about the world beyond the gates. Though she would have preferred to ask her question privately, she wasn't sure what would happen after this dinner - whether they would immediately travel to South America, or whether they would be lingering here in Ravi's childhood home for awhile. "Mr. Fitzcoventry, you're very gracious in allowing us to assault you with such a barrage of questions. I hope you will pardon if I have another one for you?" "Yes, of course..." The elder Fitzcoventry paused as he realized that he hadn't heard this girl's name referenced before. None of the other students had spoken to her directly, and the only time he'd heard her speak was to compliment his grandson on the beauty of his home. "What is your name, my dear.. and your question?" "My name is Frida, sir. Frida Ricci. And I was wondering if you had heard of a group of people called the Janin?"
  6. Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Didn't read comics enough (or at least, not those comics) to be able to pick at any flaws that might have been there. For me, it was just a ton of fun. Will probably be seeing it again this weekend.
  7. "So the door to Dalton isn't the only door to Earth. How.. fascinating." She stepped forward, and glanced up at Ravi with a soft smile. "Your home in India is beautiful, Ravi. I would offer to paint it for you so that you would always be able to look upon it, but it seems as if you can merely step through the door to do so now. But he does raise a legitimate question.. perhaps you could answer it for us, sir? It may be that much more time has passed since we stepped through the door at Dalton than it seemed to us, or it may be much less. After all, the time you spent amongst the Chiderans was but a few days to us in Colorado, Ray."
  8. Despite what she had finally learned about her abilities, and despite the gracious hospitality of the Chiderans, Frida had been more than ready to leave the cold, snowy world of warrior women behind. Though she didn't know how much different the Beast-Skinned world would be, and though she had finally started to figure out how to deal with the unwelcome visions, in her mind the Chideran world would always be associate with death. It was a place where she had been forced to suffer the agony of death again and again in her dreams, and she was ready to take her leave of the place. So she anxiously awaited their departure, and once through the door, she laughed softly along with everyone else at Sean's gender-switched antics, and smiled happily as she took in their surroundings. It took some of the others by surprise.. not only had she grown more quiet and reserved than usual during much of their time with the Chiderans, her pale, otherworldly appearance had made it easy to look past her, once you got used to it. It was almost as if she wasn't quite part of that world, and her presence here - her laughter and smile, even the color of her hair and clothes, while still a bit paler than the others - seemed so much brighter, so easy and open.. she seemed alive again, and distinctly un-Frida-like, for anyone other than Ravi. She was dressed in her original Dalton clothes with Chideran clothing stuffed safely in her pack, for she too had assumed the change in temperature would warrant the shedding of their furs and leathers. She was, instead, back to the simple jeans and soft pink tunic, which she'd had the opportunity to clean while they were at Heartstone. It stood out in the jungle, but at least it was color - wonderful, wonderful color, like everything else around them. She sighed softly, and followed the others, doing her best to keep up with the more athletic Daltonites.
  9. They had been at Heartstone for two days and two nights. The other students were settling in quite nicely as they waited for Sean to return from his her Quickening, becoming friends (or more) with the Chiderans, learning the ways of battle, and learning about their abilities. But for Frida, there was no learning to be had.. she had little desire to learn the ways of battle, though one of the Chideran warriors insisted that if she going to carry a dagger, she would at least learn how to handle it, and had taught her some of the basics. But from the Chiderans, there were no answers. She had treated the pictures for the Elders, and they had been grateful. But despite their inquiries on her behalf, there was no one who knew the ways of the undead, or of anyone who did. She saw glimpses of them, here and there, but unlike home, these spirits seemed less inclined to approach her directly, or to wander aimlessly amongst the Chiderans the way they had amongst the students of Dalton. Yet it seemed as if they filled her mind with images of their death, and as a result she slept little, waking frequently from nightmares filled with pain and sorrow. For she had quickly learned that no matter how bravely or heroically a Chideran (or anyone else for that matter) faced death, the rage of battle was still horrifying and frightening, and the pain often terrible to endure. On their third night, she rose from bed from her nightmares, dressing quietly and slipping out of the hut. It was easy to come and go as one pleased here - no matter how much Sylvia tried to keep watch, the vast majority of the Chiderans treated them as heroes - and subsequently, as adults. There was no guarding of rooms, no ten o'clock curfews here. And so Frida stepped out into the darkness, wrapped in her furs to keep off the chill that swept down into the valley. She received a brief nod from one or two of the warrior women standing guard, for even here at Heartstone, they were surrounded by the wild things of the forest. They had grown accustomed to her late-night wanderings, for without her art to occupy her or books with which to distract herself, she was at a loss as to how to distract herself otherwise. So she walked.. quietly, amongst the buildings, until she reached the edge of the village, where the walls of the valley began to rise up around them, soaking in the quiet of the night, and trying to figure out how to deal with the unwelcome infusion of memories that the ghosts of dead warrior women seemed to be forcing upon her, even as they kept their distance.
  10. The corner of the young woman's lips turned up in a faint smile, and she tilted her head slightly as she gazed at him. "Well, I suppose that depends on which way is your way. I am heading towards the rooms offered to us by our hosts. First I plan to stop by the room Rosa and Lucia were assigned to, in order to borrow the hairspray Lucia mentioned. Then I suppose I'm heading back to the room they assigned me. It seems late to disturb the Elders again, for something I can do tomorrow during daylight hours." "And with whom has Sylvia graced with the pleasure of your company during our stay here in the heart of the Amazons?" "Well, she assigned me a room with Ahvia, but she advised me that since we were not well acquainted, she preferred to share accommodations with Lucia and Rosa. I told her that would probably be best, since I tend to keep late nights." "I see. And what do you plan to do with the rest of your evening then, all by yourself in your accommodations?" "Well..." They had fallen into step together as they spoke, heading towards the lodge that had been provided to them. But she hesitated a moment before responding, and in the interim, the only sounds that filled the air were their muffled footfalls on the damp, snow-melted path, and the distant sounds of Chideran revelry. "I'm not sure, actually. I hesitate to draw, now.. it seems that in this land of women warriors, the only thing that speaks to me, as I touch pencil to paper, is the spirits of the dead. And not only do I tire of such morbidity, but it seems somewhat of an affront to our hosts to continue drawing them, now that I know their feelings on the matter. It has been a long journey.. perhaps if I lay down, my mind will be content to let me sleep right away for once. And you? Now that you know where I am going, am I indeed headed your way? Or have you merely altered the path towards your destination now, so that we might enjoy the pleasure of each other's company for awhile?" She stopped to glance up at him, and though she made her best effort towards concealment, Ravi's heightened senses could still sense her pleasure at his presence, detect the note of flirtatiousness in her normally cool voice. She'd managed to smooth the smile from her lips, but he could still see her pupils dilate slightly at his closeness, and hear her breath catch slightly as her gaze met his.
  11. Frida watched Ravi leave, and in Mari's presence she managed to keep her expression neutral, though her dark gaze was as intense as always. It was only after he left that she turned back to the others briefly. "I must see to the drawings I left with the Elders first. Thank you Lucia, I will seek out your rooms, and do my best not to wake Rosa." And without any further comment, she excused herself from the bath house, in order to finish her business with the Elders. There would be time to return for a bath - perhaps later, when she could be alone, and fantasize about Ravi's - STOP IT, already. - and relax in private.
  12. Hey eyes followed his body with a gaze that was half-professional, and three-fourths lust. Most guys would have been half-and-half, but there was an extra fourth of a gaze reserved for creatures as stunningly perfect as Ravi Fitzcoventry. She did her best to suppress a little wistful sigh as he disappeared in the other pool, trying not to picture herself slipping in there with him, running her hands over his - Stop it this moment. Her cheeks colored a little at his knowing gaze, and she cleared her throat slightly and she unfastened the cloak - even aside from Ravi's sensual influence, the steam of the room was far too warm for the heavy layering of their travels. "It was fine, I suppose. Not terribly productive on my part. I gave them the pictures I drew - the ones of their fallen. It was the least I could do, considering their assistance in getting us this far, and the meaning the drawings held for them. They could have just left us back at Doorhold, after all, and brought Sean to this place. But they say they know little of anyone with my... abilities. They will ask, but they could make no promises." "So your business with them is finished?" "Well, not precisely. I actually came looking for you, Lucia..." She turned her attention to the other young woman, perhaps the only one there with a gift as dark and mysterious as her own. There was something about shadows and spirits that went together, and it made Frida, at least, less intimidated by Lucia's emerging darkness as some of the other students might be. "I was hoping perhaps you might have some hairspray." Lucia arched a brow at Frida, more surprised by the requestor than by the request itself. If anyone were going to be concerned about the state of their hair, the ever-distracted Frida seemed least likely of them all, save perhaps Renata, or Sean, their newly-minted female Chideran. "Hairspray?" "Yes, I taught the elders how to make a picture frame, but they will have to send from far away for the glass, and in the meantime a bit of hairspray can help protect the drawings from smuggling, you see. It's not ideal, but it will be better than nothing. I never considered the possibility that I would need a fixative during our travels, or I would have brought one."
  13. Frida considered it for a moment long moment, looking thoughtful, as she went through a mental list of preservation methods in her mind and ticked them off as unlikely options. Finally, held out her hand for the pad, and began pulling the pictures out gently when they handed it to her. "The sketchbook paper is acid-free, which will help reduce the amount of yellowing over time. I lack a proper sealant, but it is possible one of the other girls from Dalton brought hair spray. It will help prevent the drawings from smudging, though it may cause some yellowing itself. However, it is probably our best alternative. Have your people developed the art of glass-making?" The one-eyed elder nodded, her eyes fixed on Frida's actions intently. "Yes.. though it is quite rare. There is very little here at Heartstone, and that we do possess has been crafted into the shape of ritual items that I shall not speak of to a non-Chideran." "Of course, I understand. Would you be able to obtain some? You will need two panes of glass for each picture, each a bit larger than the paper itself. Then you will take wood and form it into strips, here.. like this." She pulled out her pencil from where it was tucked into her backpack, and quickly sketched out a blueprint of a picture frame, including the groove that would hold the glass in place. "In my world, we would glue this, or perhaps staple it. You shall have to find a way to bind the wood together at the corners - whether by some sort of adhesive, or perhaps by simply tying it together. The tighter you can seal it, the better. The less the picture is exposed to air, the longer it will last." The three-fingered Elder took the drawing, examining it carefully for several moments before nodding. "Yes.. I think our craftsmen should be able to make this, if we can acquire the glass. Our sisters of Seahold may be able to provide it, though it will take time." "Then you'll want to store it somewhere with a stable temperature and low humidity." She paused at the woman's confused expression, and shook her head slightly, looking abashed. "I'm sorry - where it fluctuates the least amount between hot and cold, and where the air is the least damp. Perhaps a box of some sort, until you get the glass to make the frame." She pulled out the last drawing, and handed them to the elders carefully, affording them (if possible) more respect than she would a normal drawing, making sure not to bend or smudge them. They took them from her carefully, and sat them down on the table. "Elders, do you - is there anything you can tell me in exchange? About this.. ability? Why I have it, or how to control it?" The old women exchanged looks, and as they spoke, Frida had to struggle to suppress the frustration on her face, and ignore the leaden feeling of disappointment that settled into her stomach. "I am sorry, Daltonite - but we know very little of the ghost-touched." The least-scarred of the three placed her hand firmly on Frida's shoulder, squeezing it with a strength that was surprising in an old woman, and caught Frida's gaze with a rare look of sympathy. "We will ask around, Frida of Dalton. I am sorry for our lack of knowledge. If there are any of my sisters or daughters here at Heartstone that have heard of your gift, we will find out for you, and tell you of it before your departure." Frida nodded, forcing a bit of a smile for politeness' sake, and the old woman clasped her forearm with the grip of a former warrior. Frida returned the gesture uncertainly, but nodded again a bit more firmly. "Thank you. If you will excuse me, I will go ask amongst the other visitors of Dalton, see if one of the other girls has any hairspray. That will help to preserve the drawings for a time, until they can be properly framed." ______________________________ She spent several minutes searching Heartstone for her fellow "Daltonites". Though it seemed unlikely, she kept an open mind, but encounters were slim. She caught Ryan jumping between houses - leave it to Frida to be one of the few people who looked up, but a weird look and a "You kidding?" was the only response she got from him before he moved on. She couldn't find Mari or Renata to ask, though neither girl necessarily struck Frida as the hairspray type. She ran into Autumn, who - once she found out what Frida needed it for - apologetically denied having brought any. Sean had disappeared, off to his initiation or whatever. But eventually she stumbled on a couple Chiderans, who informed her that some of her people had gone to seek out the bath house. After obtaining directions from them, she made her way there, hoping to encounter Lucia or Rosa.. Lucia was always so well-manicured, Frida was holding out hope that she might possess something that the young artist could use. She made her way to the bathhouse, and stepped inside with a soft sigh. It was warm - so warm, and the air was thick with moisture. She was glad she had left the drawings with the Elders. She could hear the low murmur of voices, reminding her of a Japanese women's bathhouse she had visited once with her mother on vacation. She stepped quietly forward, towards the voices, making out figures through the steamy haze.. and then froze. "Oh good, Lucia, I-- Ravi." Her gaze took in the scene, even in the second or two before they registered they were no longer alone, or who had joined them. How the two of them were gazing at each other, the way he held her hand with his, and rested the other on her shoulder. To Lucia it was, perhaps, a bit embarrassing - getting caught in a moment that looked more intimate than it had been. But Ravi could see the emotion flicker, ever so subtly, across Frida's hauntingly pretty face. From any other woman, he would have expected fury, anger, jealousy. He knew he shouldn't be getting that from Frida.. she had, after all, offered to be his lover, even as he was seeing Mari. So why did she look so hurt, and confus-- Oh, dammit.. I turned her down in order to be faithful to Mari.. and here I am with Lucia. Naked, in a bath. God, what this must look like.
  14. The woman with only three fingers lifted them in a gesture of summoning. "Come here, Daltonite." Frida stepped forward, into the intense scrutiny of the Elders. Here in the dark hut, her mind on the subjects and implications of her drawings, she was more obviously inclined towards the ethereal. The insubstantiable quality was stronger, her coloring muted again in a way that Yithaja hadn't seen since they'd originally arrived at Doorhold. Two of the three stood, and as they woman with one eye remained standing, her gaze fixed on Frida's intently, the other woman circled her slowly, studying her. This woman had encountered other Daltonites, and some of them would have withered under such a stare, or else glared back in defiance of her authority. This one was different.. she gazed back, not indifferently, but.. passively, observantly. Frida's gaze took in everything about the old woman, not just the intensity of that one-eyed stare, but the intricate details of the scars that criss-crossed her face and body, the style of her clothing, the lines of age that the Chideran elder wore proudly. As Ravi would have been able to attest to, Frida's gaze made you feel as if someone were looking into your soul and pulling it out for all to see.. if you were only aware enough to notice her gaze in the first place. The other Elder completed her circle, standing closer to Frida. She reached out and pinched her, as if curious to see whether she would feel her there. Frida flinched, more from the surprise than the pain, and let out a little startled sound.. she was obviously still a part of the world, though the elder Chideran had felt a chill run through her at the moment of contact. "Ouch!" "What are you, Daltonite? What is your ability? I have never seen one like you." "Your people at Doorhold called me 'ghost-touched'. I see the spirits of the dead." "And why do you seek the presence of the Elders of Heartstone?" "Because of these." With that, Frida extended the sketchbook toward them. The one-eyed woman took it, and after a moment studying the outside of the book, she flipped it open and began to page through it, her still-sharp gaze focused now on the images the young artist had captured. The other two gathered around her, the three-fingered elder picking up a lit candle as she stood, and drawing it closer to the page in order to shed light upon the drawings. "I do not know why I drew them. I normally only draw things that I have seen. But these came to me, at night on watch during our travels here. I showed them to Yithaja, and she requested that I bring them to you. They were familiar to her. So here I am."
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