[ Vanessa has never found any need to spend time at this particular school, despite its placement in Willow, but it's only too easy to spot the falling stars which land in that direction. Given how close she already is, she sees no harm in wandering near—a small part of her will usually wonder if someone she already knows may appear. Something to dread as much as hope for.
Her steps are silent, with bare feet somehow avoiding the disturbance of any loose twigs or flora in the woods, but the train of her dress may brush across any fallen leaves in her path as she follows her senses to the nearest Star Child. One isn't far. She can smell them before she hears the huffs of frustration.
From the shade of one of the larger trees, pale blue eyes watch with a gentle glow, observing what appears at first glance to be something of a lost cause.
Whatever the woman is attempting to knock down—a cube?—is doing well to elude her. It must be important. There's always a quest, or a test, or some way that the Fox insists on wasting energy.
More than willing to ease the stark transitions for any new arrivals as best she can, Vanessa lifts a pale hand to rest against the tree trunk, then reaches for the nearest branch as though preparing to climb. Her nearing presence, however, seems enough to cause the cube in question to fall from the branch and dart in the other direction. It's enough to bewilder her back into stillness, as though she had just frightened a bird she was hoping to pet. ]
survival { And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
Her steps are silent, with bare feet somehow avoiding the disturbance of any loose twigs or flora in the woods, but the train of her dress may brush across any fallen leaves in her path as she follows her senses to the nearest Star Child. One isn't far. She can smell them before she hears the huffs of frustration.
From the shade of one of the larger trees, pale blue eyes watch with a gentle glow, observing what appears at first glance to be something of a lost cause.
Whatever the woman is attempting to knock down—a cube?—is doing well to elude her. It must be important. There's always a quest, or a test, or some way that the Fox insists on wasting energy.
More than willing to ease the stark transitions for any new arrivals as best she can, Vanessa lifts a pale hand to rest against the tree trunk, then reaches for the nearest branch as though preparing to climb. Her nearing presence, however, seems enough to cause the cube in question to fall from the branch and dart in the other direction. It's enough to bewilder her back into stillness, as though she had just frightened a bird she was hoping to pet. ]