[She's perched on one of the lower pillar, an expression of barely concealed boredom flitting to her lips and back into the composure of mild interest everytime something unusual catches her eye. Or for anything to catch on fire, really.
In this case, it's a familiar face. But it has been months in this quaint place.]
This place goes with your hair. [Prussia calls out.]
no subject
In this case, it's a familiar face. But it has been months in this quaint place.]
This place goes with your hair. [Prussia calls out.]