What a strange young man.

He had regarded her with some curiosity - she noticed the way his eyes had travelled to her legs and gone, "wait a second, that is not normal." Indeed, thanks to her mother she had a rather good tolerance for climbing, could run faster than most, could dance well and found it incredibly awkward to sit neatly on a chair. But as all furniture was relatively made universal Celandine had found ways to get around the awkwardness of not having knees like anyone else. Benches with space beneath were the key, where one could have much room to angle your body. And stools. Less need to have the arms of a chair jutting up into random, unwanted space. It depended how one sat, but it had been why Celandine had chosen the bench, so that she could easily spread and remain somewhat ladylike.

Somewhat. Her ettiquette lessons were failing her. Although to be honest most of those lessons were pertaining to situations within courts and exotic cultures. Not public houses within everyday towns. It was as if her entire family and friends expected her to be following closely in her mother's hoofsteps or something.

The young man - Evian - was heading outside. Celandine stared after him a moment then hurriedly stuffed the scarf back into her bag. He was an adventurer, he had said - reportedly Stonevale was 'one of those towns' which was full of these. Hence the many taverns and inns, and the monsters who lurked on the borders. There was a constant goblin threat, there were recognisable townsfolk. It really was 'one of those towns' which stood at the crossroads to many cities and counties and was a reststop or starting place for any would-be hero.

Yet Evian had been the first person to talk to her since she had left the fortress in the forest. At least the first one who didn't have to talk to her - innkeepers and such like. So, he was a lifeline. Or at least, a curiosity. She badly stealthed right in front of the minstrel's stage, sneaking by an open window and underneath the brightest light. As Evian walked out of the door she went over to a wooden post pillar and barely hid behind it.

And then - well there it was. A sudden memory. A dream, or a dream within a dream. It came to her, swift and quick, as the déjà vu set in and she remembered what she had seen in her dreams that previous night. A rare gift she had that meant she could see brief snatches of possible futures. And she had seen this very view -

A scene, obscured by a tall pillar. A bard, playing a dirge, just like the one being struck up. Most of the view obscured by a bright sun, so bright that she had thought this whole scene outside, which was why she hasn't thought ...

And then she remembered the odd part of the vision. The very odd part. For there had been a blank space. An emptiness, a void.

Right where Evian was standing now.

"What?" She gasped, loudly.