holypath-blog

[holypath-blog]

unwaveringpath.‌

A few seconds passed, and Primrose’s eyes stayed downcast. She didn’t have to look at Ophilia to know she didn’t tell the truth. At least, not in its entirety. How could something not have happened in that forest? She refused to believe that what had happened had been to her and her alone.

“I see.”

A sharp breath, and a slow exhale—she didn’t want to lose her cool.

“I’ve heard that the fields can show pieces of history, parts of one’s past. I’ve heard whispers of it being able to show the future.”

Primrose turned her head towards Ophilia, meeting her eyes. She remembered the theatre, the empty seats, the silence. The tombstone, standing among paper trees, and the words written on it.

“I can’t vouch for the accuracy of those claims, but the icy maze within the heart of the fields baffles.”

She thought of the flowers she held, and of the knife they became. Anything she touched would turn this way, wouldn’t it? It was better to accomplish things by herself.

She forced a smile—she was sure Ophilia could tell it was forced, and she turned to look at the forge instead.

“Needless to say, I’m not sure whether what I’ve seen is a testament of the past or the future.”

She watches Primrose with growing concern, the vulnerability she’s showing something rare -- something precious. There’s a tone of unease and hesitance in her words, even as her expression says otherwise... on the surface. It isn’t like Primrose to look away... and yet perhaps this was the closest to Primrose she had ever been.

She thinks of the lanthorn. Cold. She must have seen the future -- the future that she is trying so desperately to avoid. Or had such a future already come to pass, never to return to the way it was?

Even as she tries to keep herself focused, the wince that crosses her face while their eyes lock is unmistakable. Perhaps they were more alike than Ophilia ever thought.

“Primrose...” Bringing her gaze back to her face, she lets one hand leave her tools and the other clasp the woman’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Were they not here, she would certainly have clasped her hands in hers -- but the flames of the kiln burned hot and fierce, metal growing molten. “Whatever vision came to pass -- it was something that Diaidem wished for you to see. Perhaps... it is something you have to accomplish, to fulfil your wish. Something we must understand... something we must face.”

The lanthorn. She closes her eyes -- but smiles gently as she opens them, to meet Primrose’s eyes. “You do not have to shoulder it alone. Perhaps we met one another here for that purpose. Whatever came before you in those fields... I will listen to it, Primrose.”

[holypath-blog]

hexennxcht.‌

          {♠} —; “Oh, you’ve become an expert on my character?” she says, smiling coyly at her company. “Perhaps I’ve been letting my guard down more than usual—I should get Primrose to brush up my acting skills with private lessons perhaps then.” her eye looks the staff up and down.

          {♠} —; She’d seen many in her world hold such things—both as walking sticks and as weapons. Did Ophilia possess that type of ability too? Was she also some kind of sage like Boey or Kliff was? Given her nature though, she was probably more like Genny, or Silque. Between those two though, definitely more like Genny.

          {♠} —; “Pray tell then, Ophi.” she begins, almost tempted to call her little sheep. “Are you planning on only gathering the fruits of the earth—vegetable and such? Or are we also here to hunt then?”

          {♠} —; “What surprises do you have up your sleeve?”

She tilts her head, a little surprised -- perhaps somewhat coy herself. “No, no, I wouldn’t say that... rather...” She pauses, letting out a shy laugh. “Perhaps I’m nosy...? It is hard to meet another, and not try to understand them. I don’t expect to be right, but... I do feel you are a kind person. You have come out to help, haven’t you?”

There’s something else in what she has said -- Primrose, the other woman a signal that Sonya was trustworthy. As far as Ophilia knew, they hadn’t shared anything particularly private... but for Primrose to solicit some repeated company, she must trust them a great deal. For someone who trusted as sparingly as Primrose... it was hard not to notice, at the very least.

It’s enough to make her wonder -- becoming so lost in thought that the woman’s interruption startles her, cheeks flushed. “Surprises...? Why, I wouldn’t say I have any of those...” Sonya’s words pull her into thought, though, and she closes her eyes. “I am not one to take lives haphazardly. Life has a balance... with us and all creatures part of it. I intended to gather those fruits, but...” She clutches her staff tightly. “I am afraid I do not have any healing abilities at the moment. If we come across any animals that have been wounded by these ‘whistles’... then the mercy would be to end their suffering. In this situation, wasting the meat would be careless.”

She looks back to Sonya, a melancholy having surfaced that was not there prior. “And what of you? I am not one to judge one’s choices, if the mind and heart are sound.”

[holypath-blog]

swindledpath.‌

        it’s not something you’re used to, close contact - always was it found scraping by guards or exchange, rarely if at all like this before you and the travelers’ paths intertwined. and yet, here you are, once held for a moment before the present resumes. “ Whistle hunters. Someone along the way decided not to dodge it. I assume you can figure out the rest? ”

        scarf, shawl, and cover blown, your eyes drift from her work to your wounds, new injury a deep red over old scars. it’s nothing new, watching it, so you nod and compose yourself as best you can - and yet you still wince as it’s applied, gaze darting quick to the wall.

        ( if you’ll be honest with yourself this once, you’d forgotten that a wound could hurt so much after it’d settled in. )

        “ I’ve had worse first encounters, I’m sure. ” a calm village in weather changing like this, disrupted by this flurry - you can’t say you’re surprised, no, but you’re not quite sure what you should’ve expected. at the very least, the fool who’d born some sort of death wish was still alive, so you think you’ve done as necessary. “ It sure seems unused to this. I take it you’ve been here for long enough to know all of this, Ophilia? ”

        the notion is… strange, actually. had you not just talked to her a while ago? her words sound like they’ve endured far longer than that, and yet your memories recall anything but. it would be a fool’s errand to question it now, though, especially in the midst of all this.

She smiles gently, her eyes growing soft as he explains his circumstances. “You’re always thinking of others more than yourself.” He tried to hide it, of course -- but Ophilia was hardly someone you could hide anything from, when she made it her personal mission to solve everyone’s problems, heal everyone’s hearts. For a thief... perhaps she never would have expected Therion to be such a gentle person.

Yet thieves had their reasons -- and their own struggles, whatever path they decided to take. Therion too. Therion especially.

Pushing on despite his flinching, she examines the wound again -- reaching for a bandage to wrap it when she’s satisfied that it’s clean. “Hold out your arm -- just nice and relaxed. As natural as you can.” Another step done, her focused expression melts into a warm smile and a nod. “I’ve been here... well. Some months now, I would suppose. Primrose arrived before I did, though not long before, I believe.”

Her eyes drift downwards. “It is a lovely place. I dare say you’ll be able to make yourself quite at home here.” If she knew Therion, though, he was hardly one to settle down peacefully. Let alone when he had a goal in sight. If he was here, then -- she would have to look out for him... no matter what.

[holypath-blog]

event participation form ;

muse name / url: ophilia clement / holypath proof of participation:

         - part 1: tag here!          - part 2: tag here!

Thank you, your participation has been acknowledged.

Next time you peruse through your mailbox, you will find two packages:

One contains an outfit rather befitting of the spring season, completely within your stylistic tastes… Wow, nice!

The other appears to have a small revolver, with ten rounds of ammunition. It seems that you have proven yourself worthy of being able to use this.

[holypath-blog]

; trial reward re-submission form

muse name: ophilia clement trial number: 1 requested affinity and element: n/a requested item: battle-tested dagger. requested power: holy light. (already received) which would you like to imbue with more strength?: holy light.

link to previous trial completion acknowledgement: here!

The air eases. It is time to return what is to be returned.

Pray before the statue of Her Lady within Her holy abode and reminisce about what you desire. The glass shines.

A battle-tested dagger rests comfortably in your grip upon opening your eyes. Additionally, your holy light has been strengthened considerably; as have you, seeing how you can hardly feel the chill of it any longer, instead, it seems to be able to revitalize your companions and yourself slightly when used. What plagues will you choose to spite with this sacred power? What blessings will you protect?

May Diaidem bless you.

[holypath-blog]

unwaveringpath.‌

It was true that that had been the goal of the Rekindling. Unfortunately, a snag had been hit during the festivities–her trip through the Fields of Theama had been quite unique, to say the least. There was a frustrating dissonance in her heart. She thought herself strong, unshakeable. Perhaps it hadn’t been so.

“You’re right. Perhaps a small flame was ignited in all of us.” The dancer chuckled softly, not looking at Ophilia directly. “As cheesy as that sounds.”

Was the doubt that crept into her heart lack of faith, then? It was odd to think about. After all, Primrose had put so much faith in herself that it had kept her safe all these years. She had gone through so much. Was Ophilia right, or was it her contagious optimism?

“Thank you.” She didn’t want to shut her down, though. She was the one person she knew from Orsterra, after all.

Faith shall be your shield.

“Have you gone to the Fields of Theama, Ophilia?”

Ophilia searches for the other woman’s eyes, troubled when she finds she cannot meet them. It seemed Primrose was certainly wounded after all, though it would have been nice to have thought she was imagining it. Her own instincts, regarding the pain of others, it seems, would never fail her after all.

She glances to one side. Ironically, her face tells it all -- a pause where she tries to think of what to say. In the end, she can hardly lie to her -- it isn’t Ophilia’s own style. Yet the whole truth, somehow, is far too grim to bear. How could she tell Primrose that all was lost? That she didn’t know what she was to do anymore?

She can’t -- there is no way she could. Her own words cautious, as if feeling their way forward, she thinks to answer. “I did. Though... I’m afraid there wasn’t much to be seen there.” It’s true -- the flame was out, the lanthorn empty, the light dark. She clasps her hands together, turning back to look at Primrose, attempting to meet her eyes again. “And you, Primrose? I hope your journey was more fruitful than mine, if you did.”

[holypath-blog]

hexennxcht.‌

          {♠} —; She smiles, thinking about the kindness that radiates from Ophilia. Though the priory was never Sonya’s true home, she has fond memories of times with her sister. Though, none of her sisters reminded her of Ophilia. No, that young little sheep Genny did instead. People who did good for the sake of it….no nonsense there, just altruism. Those people were the world.

          {♠} —; As her help is accepted, Sonya nods her head and points to another flower patch, walking with Ophilia beside her as they went. It’s simple, their task, but it’s still important for the festivities. She comes to wonder how life in Eidolon is so refreshing yet so…different. She crouches down to begin harvesting, glancing towards Ophilia before making light conversation to help the time go by.

          {♠} —; “Say, Ophi, just what sort of home do you come from, if you don’t mind me asking? You seem unfazed by the weather here to an extent—did you grow up in frigid temperatures like this? Or is it simply your illuminating personality that grants you resistance to such buffeting winds?”

“M-my illuminating...?” She stutters, not quite managing to repeat it for clarification, face red. She turns back to the flowers, flustered even knowing the woman is teasing. “I dread to think I am that obvious...! But I suppose I did grow up in chilly weather, for the most part.”

Her mind wanders back to her home, her beloved family -- blood related or not. That cathedral, that town, her sister -- that was the home that she remembered. Memories prior are hazy, at least those of the environment. Only the pure feeling of her childhood years remained. Blissful ignorance. Fear. Resentment. Growing into peace and acceptance.

“I wasn’t born there, but I did grow up in the town of Flamesgrace. Despite the name, it’s covered with a layer of snow all year around. The ‘flame’ isn’t that of the earth, but rather the flame of Aelfric, ever protecting us -- our holy saviour, that is.” Eyes growing gentler, she straightens with a bundle of flowers in her arms, her flustered expression completely gone, replaced with a serene calmness that came with the comforts of home. “The rekindling, some time ago, reminded me dearly of home. So I suppose there is an element of familiarity.”

[holypath-blog]

hexennxcht.‌

event starter for @holypath

          {♠} —; Of course. Somehow one way or another she ends up finding her way around protecting other people. That, or she ends up gathering materials. This time it was a little bit of both however she at least knew her company. That much was fine with her at least.

          {♠} —; They’ve been wandering the outskirts for a while, and she’s keeping an eye out for whistles. She adjusts her blade, casting the reflection of light from the blade into the forest outside. So far, so safe. She looks at Ophilia.

          {♠} —; “So….what exactly are we gathering here? Did you sign yourself up to do this, or was it simply convenient?”

Even with the situation as it is, she can’t help smiling as Sonya talks -- it truly was a relief to be out here with someone familiar. Ophilia wouldn’t let it show, of course, but with the village and the world outside it so dangerous as things were now... she couldn’t help relaxing slightly. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the people of Eidolon to protect her -- far from it. They had been nothing but supportive, and she only wished to help as much as she could. Yet with those precious to her outside of her line of sight, she...

Well, with the memories she came here with -- the wish she had made -- perhaps it was natural. Of course, she feared them becoming hurt. Of course, she feared never seeing them again. She was hardly close to Sonya, but she would feel awful if anything were to happen to her.

At least one person, it seemed, would not disappear without her seeing it.

“Well, I could hardly live with myself if I didn’t offer my support, could I? I’m sure you feel the same, Sonya.” Looking out to the landscape, she clasps her staff a little tighter. “I was hoping to gather some food. With this many people injured, we don’t have nearly enough to sustain them while they recover...”

[holypath-blog]

trckstrthokk.‌

guard duty. // holypath.

event starter for @holypath

          {♣} —; Volunteering herself for guard duties, she picked out among the crowd who she believed would be the most fun to be around. By most fun though, of course she meant whoever looked like they couldn’t fend for themselves. This blond girl seemed simple enough. 

          {♣} —; With her staff in both hands, she approached the girl, smiling before putting a hand on her shoulder. Loki’s read on her was fairly right, but she felt….off in her judgement. Maybe there was more to her than meets the eye? She’ll just have to watch how it unfolds.

          {♣} —; “Hello there, I’m Loki, and I’ll be guarding you for the day. Just what shall we be doing today, hm? Bolstering defenses? Checking in on the cabins more towards the edge of the town? Perhaps foraging for more resources on the outskirts? Whatever it is, I’ll keep you safe.”

What a startlingly forward person. The introduction, the approach, the touch of her shoulder -- making her jump, ever so slightly, not having expected it -- is a rare sight, even after having witnessed Primrose in action so many times. Something about her aura feels different.

She shakes her head, smiling -- foolish to judge quickly, foolish to imagine one can understand any person immediately. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Loki... my name is Ophilia.” It was a surprise to meet others who were so emboldened, so sure of themselves, when it was so against the ways of the church -- and her own inclinations, perhaps more-so. But it wasn’t unpleasant. Primrose had always been an enjoyable and reassuring presence, after all.

Looking down at the map in her hands, she double checks the locations marked there, before raising her eyes to meet Loki’s. “Yes, it is foraging for resources, I believe... I was given a list of ingredients we need to make more medical salves, and the locations they are usually found are marked on this map. Unfortunately, it’s far too risky to travel out there alone... but demand far outweighs supply as things are now.” She shuffles a little closer, holding the map out for Loki to see. “Silvermoss Forest and the cave within is where most of the flora we need can be found. They’re marked down here...

[holypath-blog]

genuinepath.‌

wonderful as always, @holypath!

  Exploration is key when it comes to learning about one’s new environment. Even with night slowly falling over the region, a particular building stands out as a blinding beacon. Alfyn stares for several moments, trying to catch sight of people through the window.

  Blonde hair catches his eyes and a wave of excitement flows through him, Alfyn hurrying to the door before he can stop himself. Knocking who? He doesn’t know what that is!

  The door opens with a (somewhat) gentle pull, apothecary’s mouth open to speak before he becomes heavily enamored by the items occupying the building. Alfyn blinks, remaining one foot into the room and the door open at his back. He shivers, finally fully stepping inside.

  … Right, he came over here for a reason, correct?

  He’s instantly reminded when his eyes land on Ophilia, expression brightening instantly.“ Ophilia! By the Gods, it’s great to see you! ”

It doesn’t take much work here to become swept up by the routine. Perhaps Alfyn had been right -- perhaps she really had been cut out for being an apothecary. Of course, it wasn’t the name they gave such work here, but... it was difficult not to think of her friend each day, when she came into work like this. Some days... some days--

She turns around at the sound of the door opening, her mouth slightly open -- the greeting for whatever visitor it would be halted as her eyes take in the would-be stranger. It was not so. Even as the chill seeps in through the open door, she wonders if she is not dreaming. She claps her hands against her cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut, as if to slap some sense into herself -- but when she opens them again, it was real.

“Alfyn.” His name comes out as a breath, a sigh of relief -- something with more weight than he would ever understand. Hands lowered, she clasps them around his, holding them tight. Warm and strong as ever. “It really is you! Why, of course you would end up here -- this place, I mean. Not the village itself. Therion showed up here covered in blood, I’ll have you know -- though Primrose was the first I met. Have you come across them both?”

She stops to breathe, her heart pounding. Perhaps her eyes are wet -- perhaps it’s a trick of the light. “Wh-where are my manners... do sit down, Alfyn. There’s a moment to breathe now, thankfully... it’s been busy as of late.”

[holypath-blog]

She is no stranger to going outside of the village. It is a task she has taken up on her own, as well -- across the white and to those fields of reflecting ice, to mirror images of fear and familiarity. There was a sense of clarity that could only be obtained by a quick stroll on one’s own, and yet... in this current situation, it was hard to find it. It was hard to even relax, walking down the path that had been carved out for scavengers. One would have to assume it was safe, to have been approved, and yet...

The village had been safe too, until a mere few days ago. Hadn’t it?

She finds her steps faltering, stopping to turn to see the source of steps behind her -- more than a little relieved to see it is another person, her usual smile surfacing easily, warmly. “Are you out to gather resources as well? Would you mind if we walked together? I can’t relax, somehow, out alone here.”

@illusixnry

[holypath-blog]

An awful lot of the people of Eidolon thought of themselves as heroes, it seems. Therion had not been the first person to show up at the warmhouse with a wound from a whistle -- and he would be far from the last. This boy, though, was perhaps the youngest she had seen so far. It wasn’t as if Ophilia would want to look down upon him for his age -- goodness knows Tressa had shown her what a foolish idea that was -- and yet...

She examines his leg, frowning slightly. “This is a whistle wound, isn’t it? Forgive me, but... you didn’t happen to go out there alone, did you?” She longs to suggest other ways to help, but with the large variety of experiences that people arrived here with, she stops herself. At the very least... “If you want to help, there are plenty of others who want to hunt the whistles as well. If you go together, one is less likely to get hurt -- the both of you.”

@soulthieved

[holypath-blog]

swindledpath.‌

[ @holypath​, won’t you aid an ally as you have before? ]

        oh, gods, well — this is painful.

        of all the superstitions and myths, you’d considered it odd that a wish might come true in an unknown, unventured continent- and yet, here you are, a wanderer who’s moseyed his way into eidolon village. at least, you supposed, it was a simpler myth than most.

        what you hadn’t supposed was the dangers of such a myth.

        unfortunate. the blood now seeps into your clothes, passing quick through the cuts made. your hand‘s been pressed to that shoulder ever since you were pushed back to the village; only when you reach the first open spot at the warmhouse do you release it, and look up to whoever’s forced into helping.

        ah. that’s a familiar face.

        “ Ophilia, ” your voice shakes, but the smile you’ve placed only grows from the encounter. “ What a shock. I suppose we’ve both got our own tales for being here now, don’t we? ”

        ( you can only trust and hope this will go well, as so many fights have gone before. )

It had been a long and tiring few days. No one had been prepared, and no one had seen it coming -- how could they? In the midst of a festival, a once-yearly time of rest and celebration, the gates of the underworld had opened up.

That was how it seemed to Ophilia, at the very least -- and from the whispers she had heard around town, she was having difficulty convincing herself that she was wrong. As the melt began, caves of ice that had sealed the beasts away had opened, releasing them into the world -- as if a sealed demon that should never have surfaced had been set upon the world once more. Ophilia should know about the consequences of such a thing. It almost felt as if she was... responsible.

So of course, she had placed herself in the warmhouse and gotten to work. It was all she could do. Perhaps, if an old friend was right, it was something she could do well.

Perhaps the memory was leading her to imagine things. Aelfric knows she is desperate -- Aelfric knows she would give anything to see any of her companions once more. But as it doesn’t fade, as it doesn’t waver -- as the stench of blood reaches her nose -- she realises this is reality.

“Therion!” She gets to her feet, reaching out her hands on impulse -- the smell of blood bringing visions to her mind she doesn’t want to remember, visions that make her pause and flinch for a moment, nausea threatening to send her to the ground -- before she takes the man in her arms, gently. “Therion.” Only the thought of his wound makes her let him go -- much as only fear of worrying the other had made her pull away from Primrose on that day she had first arrived. “Thank Aelfric, you are safe -- but whatever happened to you?” Thank Diaidem -- for what reason, purpose, did you end up in this world?

It isn’t something she shall ask, for the moment -- leading him carefully to a seat and turning to sift through their medical supplies. Without asking for permission, she unwinds his scarf and pulls the collar of his shirt back to examine the state of the wound -- sighing with relief when it doesn’t appear the worst she has seen, by far. Turning back to collect a basin of water and a cloth, she wrings it. “I’m going to clean it... forgive me -- this will sting a little.”

She focuses on cleaning the wound, falling silent for a moment. Hopefully the pain would distract him from the moisture in her eyes -- and hopefully it would pass soon. “What a time to come here, Therion... this village has been peaceful since I arrived here, and yet this chaos broke out just a few days ago. I’m sorry this had to be your first memory of the place.”

[holypath-blog]

[ and with her p1 starters and replies tended to... here’s a p2 starter call! ophi can mainly be found helping with medical treatment. if you’re willing to be a bodyguard for her, she would like to gather resources outside the village as well... though she can surprisingly hold her own somewhat. i’ll cap this at 3, but feel free to ignore the cap if u want to dm me about it! ]

[holypath-blog]

She feels tempted to travel out to sea, a view which looks more romantic than ever now -- the dappled light of the sun reflecting from the water, more peaceful than it has seemed for some time, makes it seem ever more inviting, even knowing the chill is far too strong for a dip. Until she is confident of the ropes, she deigns to stay by the shore -- something she resolves to further as she spots a curious young figure by the shore as well.

She tilts her head. Somehow, the child seems familiar -- as if she has heard talk of him more than once before.

Smiling, she approaches, fishing rod in hand. “Would you mind if I join you?” Waiting for an answer, she looks out to sea. “Forgive me for the intrusion -- but would you happen to be Ozpin? My name is Ophilia... my friend Primrose is rather fond of you.” Primrose would surely rest easier knowing a watchful eye would ensure he wouldn’t fall into the sea again, at the very least.

@soulrewound

[holypath-blog]

decompking.‌

  Joshua, whether he looks it or not, seeks a thrill every now and then. From the stagnation of sitting around and observing that’s plagued his life until recently, branching out further is the only reasonable next step. Actively going against someone who looks like they know what they’re doing would only bring about humiliation. Picking someone from the group that appears to be a beginner, however…

  “ It is. I’m not skilled with a sword either, so we can consider this practice for both of us, ” Joshua answers. Long-distance attacks that don’t require him to dodge furious melee attacks has always been more his style. “ For something as elegantly named as ‘sword-dancing’… you would think it would be less violent. ”

That makes her laugh, gently -- though why she does so must be a mystery for a child, who has led a life outside of the adventure she had grown so accustomed to. “You would be surprised by the elegance with which some can move with a blade. A particular friend of mine is a dancer, though not of the battlefield particularly... she does bring that grace to combat, if you will.” And there was something beautiful in it, if you watched those who were clearly more experienced -- a rhythm to their movements, a joy of the dance on their faces.

It’s enough to cheer her, the thought that Primrose would also enjoy such a sport. Perhaps if she was to practice, she could surprise her. “Well, then I will be happy too. I admit, I am quite curious...” Taking up a pair of swords, she holds one out to the boy, holding hers with a surprising firmness -- one that shows she has at least held a sword before, albeit not with the knowledge of an expert. She smiles. “Then let us dance, whenever you are ready!”

[holypath-blog]

hexennxcht.‌

flower foraging. // holypath.

event starter for @holypath

          {♠} —; As the festival had began, Sonya was searching for activities to partake in. She had already gone blade dancing with Primrose, so perhaps there was something more she could do. The Flower Wreath Crafting looked quite enjoyable, but she could never have asked someone to do that with her. At least, not if she didn’t provide her own materials. So for now she took to Snowdrop Gathering.

          {♠} —; She holds a basket in her arms, kneeling down here and there to pick some flowers and place them gently within her basket. She hums gently as she does so, taking small strides so as to make sure she doesn’t accidentally step on flowers. As she continues on her way, she sees a familiar figure. Ah.

          {♠} —; “So you’re here too, hm, church girl? I should have known you’d be out here helping provide things for others. Would you care if I joined you? Perhaps this would be quicker with the two of us working together, what do you say Ophi?”

“Ah...?” Blinking and turning to the sound of the other’s voice, she gives a warm smile as she sees it’s Sonya -- though she could hardly have mistaken the voice for another anyhow. Her cheeks flushing a little pink at the woman’s remark, she nods her head, gathering the flowers she’s collected into a neat bunch before placing them in her basket. “It is hardly anything special... the people here have been so welcoming. Helping them with their festivities, especially when they are so rare... it seems natural, somehow.”

The skies were clear, the wildlife seeming to sing cheerier than usual -- a light dash of sunlight invigorating even as it is gentle. A perfect day for some time alone, to rediscover one’s place in the world and think on the way forward. Even Ophilia, someone who devoted herself to others, needed such space. Though...

She wouldn’t refuse the company. Sonya’s nickname making her chuckle lightly -- perhaps to conceal a deeper embarrassment, though it’s fairly plain as her cheeks grow pinker -- she leans over to glance at Sonya’s basket. “You do seem to be making good progress. I would enjoy the company, to tell the truth.” Perhaps it was her modesty, but she had come to think of the woman as Primrose’s friend, despite having met her herself -- perhaps it was the aura they both gave off. If someone was likely to be the person Primrose might confide in, then Ophilia would make sure they felt at home.