departure lingers on the horizon. the aftermath of the swearing ceremony taints the air, and TEORA REDFORT scrunches her nose, undecided on where she falls. to kneel was an oath she never wished to take; to avoid the dragon king's ire, though, remains the best route at present. and still, as she watches from the balcony all the bustle of houses preparing to leave, unease settles on her shoulders. // open ( 2/4 )
"it would be pleasant to return home after all of this," she says to the wandering soul approaching. teora does not yet turn, hands resting beneath her bust, barely sensing her own heartbeat beneath the fabric. dark eyes survey the carriages below, taking careful note of the house colors readying for departure.
"i fear, though, most of us will need to head directly for harrenhal. a shame that we are denied comfort because of decisions we didn't make ourselves." only then does she direct her gaze to the other. "and so, where shall you go?"