Sprawled out across her bed, a book lay splayed beneath her nose,
                dark hues fastened to the black ink dotted across paper that had felt
                the caress of fingers late into the night, time and time again. It was a
                simple story that had captured the young girl’s attention and refused
                to let go. Whether it was the fear of losing herself without it or the terror
                of forgetting a single passage, she wasn’t sure what kept her coming back
                to the story, but as her lips parted on a sweet smile she forgot her worries
                at the next period that brought the sentence to a close. A soft sound, loud
                in the silence that surrounded her, brought those dark hues up to land on
                the figure seated at the window. A delicate brow raised

                                                       ❝When did ye get here?❞

                She questioned, pages slipping from her fingers allowing the book 
                to fall shut.