( closed ) it is time we were together

[dashing]

WHO: Herian & Cosima
WHAT: a talk
WHEN: a week or two after the return to the Gallows
WHERE: Gallows library & ?
NOTES: reference to violence & recent trauma, possibly description of gross injuries?

She feels as though she were made up of smoke, that is the wind dragged at her too hard she might disappear. Herian is not entirely certain how she might manage all this; the understanding more, day by day, the impacts of the battle, the weight of what they might need to do to win the war, and what will become of things if they do win. Will there be Circles once more? Will elves have better lives alongside humanity? Will the Chantry still have its grasp, will Orlais settle back to itself, will there be change or will this be more akin to a strange pause and shuffling before all falls back to what it once was? If there are changes, will the world be better or will there be new monstrosities?

Being shrouded in dark colours is not necessarily unusual for the Ambassador, but slowly she had been starting to wind in bolts of brighter colour. Now she is all in shades of grey and black, a mark of respect for their fallen. She would have woven forget-me-knots, but they have been dormant since the first frost— nothing to be done, on that count. Around her neck hangs the necklace Cosima gave her, the reminder of mercy.

Walking quickly until she reaches the library, Herian stops at the doorway, resumes walking at a slower, more respectful pace for a place of learning, looking between the stacks until she spots Cosima at a table and walks towards her. Very softly, Herian calls out so that she doesn't startle her with her approach. "Cosima."

She is still a little too pale, her right shoulder still recovering and wrapped up beneath her clothes, but at first glance she seems well. Her hand, at least, is whole and only a little stiff rather than needing bandaging. That's an improvement.