05-30-2020, 05:02 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-30-2020, 05:06 AM by Rowan Finnegan.)
Rowan smiled at Vale, her beloved, before looking to the woman’s hand on her shoulder. It was apparent she did not think that Rowan should rise. Settling back, due to the other woman’s insistence, Rowan resigned herself to resting on the cushioned seat of the caravan. Every few moments she tried embracing the Light, but to no avail. After five minutes of futile attempts, Rowan resigned herself to a dirty dress. She would change into something more enticing once Vale had permitted her to rise.
But then Armande came over to them. He proffered a hand and a warm tone, aiding Rowan in her desire to stand from the cheap, cushioned seating of the RV. Maintaining a calm grace, Rowan spoke in honeyed tones, “Yes, I would like that very much.”
The long sleeved, white, cotton dress sounded like a dream at that moment; not a stitch of embellishment, just plain cut confidence. It would cover her wounds and add a certain air of modesty, while maintaining a light hold on her body. She would pair it with her cotton shawl, of course, and perhaps the opals set in silver… Her hair would be worn freely, of course.
“Please, do not let us stop on my account. We have a destiny to unfurl,” Rowan spoke in those same honeyed tones, already standing with Armande’s hand in hers.
But then Armande came over to them. He proffered a hand and a warm tone, aiding Rowan in her desire to stand from the cheap, cushioned seating of the RV. Maintaining a calm grace, Rowan spoke in honeyed tones, “Yes, I would like that very much.”
The long sleeved, white, cotton dress sounded like a dream at that moment; not a stitch of embellishment, just plain cut confidence. It would cover her wounds and add a certain air of modesty, while maintaining a light hold on her body. She would pair it with her cotton shawl, of course, and perhaps the opals set in silver… Her hair would be worn freely, of course.
“Please, do not let us stop on my account. We have a destiny to unfurl,” Rowan spoke in those same honeyed tones, already standing with Armande’s hand in hers.