+ blodaux
[It’s a strange thing for the season of winter to be surrounded by beautiful flowers but here she is, stooped down with a basket on her arm yet every flower she picks is dry and dead. Regardless, she treats them as if they are the most beautiful ones and every now and again she brings one up to her nose and breathes it in with a soft smile, her eyes downcast.]
I know you’re there, you know.
( laying along a branch in a tree above, she’s fascinated by the tall woman and her basket of dead flowers. her hair dangles down, messy from wind. the stranger is so gentle with them. appreciative. even when they’re not what they once were. with her words she smiles. )
   i know. i just figure this is the best way to match up your privacy    with my curiosity.
[As she hears the words in her mind, Winter looks up with a smile and the flowers still held close to her face. Her head inclines slowly, strangely fascinated. She’s seen enough spirits in her time but it’s always a delight to encounter a new one.]
There’s no need to worry about my privacy. [As if to illustrate, she sets the flowers in the basket and steps closer to the tree, reaching up and holding her hand out.] I’m Winter.