[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

Euphemia stood in her watching place somewhat indignantly, expecting her brethren to appear from overhill, through the miasma, at any moment. She imagined that they had so much fun cavorting with one another that they didn’t want to come home. That the shared memories they co-created caused them great delay from oft keeling over in side-splitting laughter. That’s what friends did when traveling together, right?

Not that Euphemia would know, not ever having traveled or reveled with a friend –not ever truly having had a friend, either.

Except perhaps maybe Mir had once been her friend, but Euphemia had never seen the girl again. Perhaps this was because Euphemia did things such as wait quite impatiently for her family to return at the expected time (or better yet, slightly ahead of the expected return time) and experience a keening jealousy of their relationships that had been hard-fought, and forged through trials they weathered together. Somehow Euphemia was never there at the right time, never able to have the foresight to stay close to certain others, was never curious enough to put herself in unexpected scenarios. And here she was, yet again,

on the outside.
waiting and yearning, and nothing more.

Her heart briefly leaped when she caught a glimpse of a bedraggled soul coming from the direction of Northfall, but just as quickly, she realized it was a stranger. The man of silvers and golds greeted her, and at first, she doted upon him only the briefest of nods – but after a moment, it was like she had suddenly remembered something, and she turned to him once more. Hello, she spoke as she simultaneously smelled him, and realized he smelled of many. Are you coming from the tournament?

---