(no subject)

[shelley_winters]

Zera sits awkwardly and alone at the edge of the plaza. Joar had danced with her first, for a while, but no gentleman could ignore the many requests to dance he had recieved from other girls, she supposes.

Between her fingers she twirls the white flower that had adorned her hair earlier. He had given it to her, and just as he had said, it had neither wilted nor faded. She looks at it quietly, firelight making the white petals glow golden.

Beside her, a laughing woman runs up to a man who kisses her fondly on the cheek. In return, she holds up an ivy wreath, smiling slyly at him and waving it teasingly between the two of them. Zera glances away, embarrassed, as he grabs for the both wreath and the woman's hand, pulling her close.

She feels terribly out of place.

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_mother_dearest/]

Happy indeed, although the slight tipsiness that had led the girl to ask him for a dance in the first place is showing its tiring effect upon her.

She beams happily, evening clearly made, but Niane thinks she should maybe be one of the first to retire from the dancing.