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47th Winter 513AV
It seemed an unlikely place for someone like Caela to be. She looked out of place, a splash of colour and health in the dreary landscape of the cemetery, blonde hair bright against her black cloak and the short red dress underneath occasionally visible as she moved. She came empty handed, no stolen flowers in her grasp as there usually were when she came. The young woman had been unable to find any winter flowers in the park and hadn't wanted to stay long either and attract attention to herself. That park was not a place that you wanted to be noticed in. So instead, she just brought herself to visit this dreary place to pay her respects.
The dancer trod carefully, weaving between the haphazard arrangements of gravestones. Some were small and could be stepped over, a small marker that had been crudely carved into, others were larger and stood closer together, the ground uneven and treacherous. She'd long believed that the rumours were true, that bodies were buried on top of each other, the knobbly ground seemed to attest to it, but it was something you just didn't think about if you could help it. Caela loved Sunberth but it did have its downsides and its little... quirks. It was also a city where you learned to turn a blind eye, a hard thing to do sometimes especially if you were stepping on something you weren't supposed to notice.
Pushing on to a small cluster of graves by the cemetery's edge, the young woman bent rather than knelt when she reached them, anxious not to muddy her clothing before work. A finger brushed over the simple stone etched with the name of her mother. A poor and crudeattempt at elegant script had been made but the letters looked childish. It wasn't the dancer's fault that she couldn't carve stone, it wasn't exactly important in her line of work but at least she had made the effort, a final act of love for the woman who'd birthed her and gone through hai to bring her up.
Her hand pulled some manner of winter weed from the stone so that it looked neat and cared for, rather than abandoned. Many of the gravestones didn't receive such treatment, instead left to have everything grow up and around them. Few cared and few ever ventured up here anyway. So it surprised her when she heard someone moving in the isolated place. She assumed it was the man who dug the graves but that wasn't at all reassuring. Caela had come across him once or twice and he'd been just plain creepy. If it was him then she wasn't going to stick around.
Straightening from her bent position, the dancer moved with swift but cautious movements, paying more attention to where she was putting her feet than to her surroundings. If she'd looked she would have discovered that it wasn't the creepy gravedigger that she'd heard at all. It wasn't something that she'd notice until it was brought to her attention or she looked up as she neared the entrance.
It seemed an unlikely place for someone like Caela to be. She looked out of place, a splash of colour and health in the dreary landscape of the cemetery, blonde hair bright against her black cloak and the short red dress underneath occasionally visible as she moved. She came empty handed, no stolen flowers in her grasp as there usually were when she came. The young woman had been unable to find any winter flowers in the park and hadn't wanted to stay long either and attract attention to herself. That park was not a place that you wanted to be noticed in. So instead, she just brought herself to visit this dreary place to pay her respects.
The dancer trod carefully, weaving between the haphazard arrangements of gravestones. Some were small and could be stepped over, a small marker that had been crudely carved into, others were larger and stood closer together, the ground uneven and treacherous. She'd long believed that the rumours were true, that bodies were buried on top of each other, the knobbly ground seemed to attest to it, but it was something you just didn't think about if you could help it. Caela loved Sunberth but it did have its downsides and its little... quirks. It was also a city where you learned to turn a blind eye, a hard thing to do sometimes especially if you were stepping on something you weren't supposed to notice.
Pushing on to a small cluster of graves by the cemetery's edge, the young woman bent rather than knelt when she reached them, anxious not to muddy her clothing before work. A finger brushed over the simple stone etched with the name of her mother. A poor and crudeattempt at elegant script had been made but the letters looked childish. It wasn't the dancer's fault that she couldn't carve stone, it wasn't exactly important in her line of work but at least she had made the effort, a final act of love for the woman who'd birthed her and gone through hai to bring her up.
Her hand pulled some manner of winter weed from the stone so that it looked neat and cared for, rather than abandoned. Many of the gravestones didn't receive such treatment, instead left to have everything grow up and around them. Few cared and few ever ventured up here anyway. So it surprised her when she heard someone moving in the isolated place. She assumed it was the man who dug the graves but that wasn't at all reassuring. Caela had come across him once or twice and he'd been just plain creepy. If it was him then she wasn't going to stick around.
Straightening from her bent position, the dancer moved with swift but cautious movements, paying more attention to where she was putting her feet than to her surroundings. If she'd looked she would have discovered that it wasn't the creepy gravedigger that she'd heard at all. It wasn't something that she'd notice until it was brought to her attention or she looked up as she neared the entrance.
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