[open] to the need for more

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren and you
WHAT: Wardenmom is consumed by secrets, as usual
WHEN: the first half of Wintermarch
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will update as necessary

I. The Hanged Man

Sometimes found perched at her table by the window with a hot drink of some kind, Teren likes to sit and do her mending where she can hear nearby conversations but is out of the way enough to not appear too approachable.
Which isn't to say she won't talk to someone who sits with her, but, as usual, whether or not she's feeling sociable is a gamble for the person approaching to take.

II. Out and About

Provisioning for the Wardens is a busy job, especially when Teren has also been lending some assistance to the Kirkwall alienage through the worsened weather. Throughout the day she can be found escorting workmen both on foot and in the teetery little ferrying boats from the docks to the Gallows, all of them generally laden with various foodstuffs and other supplies necessary to keeping the Wardens alive.

Perhaps it's the cold ever-creeping into her bony frame, or the ugliness of the weather, but she seems more standoffish than usual. Not angry per se, but pensive and distracted.

III. Her Quarters

A very limited number of people are welcome to call on Teren at home, but they know who they are. Though the door is only left open when she's waiting for Wardens to drop off their uniforms for mending, often a light can be seen through the crack beneath the door, and the faint sound of her speaking to someone, low and gentle.

IV. The Stables

Boots needs feeding and brushing. She visits her druffalo at least once a day to make sure he's being kept well, and often stays to clean his enclosure and yell at anyone she perceives to be bothering him. Boots, for his part, is fine with whatever.

V. Wildcard!

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

Runes aren't infallible, but he really doesn't think someone could have been sneaky around the ferry boats, the griffons, and the Warden offices except another Warden, and they don't have a blood mage in their ranks. Anders sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

"We need to figure this out, but we need to figure it out quietly. Mages falling down..." He doesn't need to explain to another mage how vulnerable it makes them, especially not in this city which might hold some former Templars of the worst sort.