[Flayn isn't exactly looking for anyone - she's just out for a stroll. And despite, you know, last week's death and the rule about murder and the very real possibility that tomorrow somebody is going to wind up dead overnight, she.
She looks pretty happy?
She's got a pink peony that she's holding and twirling by the stem, looking down and watching it as she walks, and she's got a garland of flowers in her hair. It's sloppily made, but it's the thought that counts, apparently.
w1, wednesday morning
She looks pretty happy?
She's got a pink peony that she's holding and twirling by the stem, looking down and watching it as she walks, and she's got a garland of flowers in her hair. It's sloppily made, but it's the thought that counts, apparently.
Also, she's humming to herself.]