[ Skarthheim territories - the dressing chamber]
Autumn sat before a mirror with its edges gilded in ivy shaped carvings, flecked with the wear of time… in absolute silence. Her reflection flickering gently with the dancing torchlight.
A soft wind whispered through the open windows of the stone tower chamber, carrying with it the scent of meat roasting below and kerosene… they were getting the field ready for the performance.
Autumn's younger maid hummed a soft melody as her fingers worked through Autumn's wild curls, weaving in delicate forest flowers, tiny skull beads, and glimmering green threads.
Autumn's dress shimmered with forest motifs, twisting vines, dark roses, and faintly glinting bones. It clung to her like a second skin…feral, yet regal…should have been but not quite strange.
She looked like something born of a hunt in the moonlight. An ancient forest queen with a crown of rot and bloom… A perfect metaphor to her existence.
