And if Amelia was feeling overwhelmed, then
Sitra Vené Tanyakoettir was positively drowning in it. She could only idly wonder as to how it was possible that she hadn't yet descended into cold sweats, panic, and just all around hysteria - even when she felt her body threatening her with the possibility. To be confronted with not only all these new faces, but with all their
enthusiasm as well, was a new and strange experience that she wasn't quite certain how to navigate.
For someone who had spent the last year in the company of just one other, it was definitely jarring.
She found herself longing for the calm of the road again because of it. For the lull of a ride through some idyllic countryside where there was enough familiarity between her and her companion that no words need be spoken, and so in turn would allow her to watch the changing scenery for hours on end without the trial of being bombarded by all manner of social pleasantries.
Still, despite how a small part of her mind was wailing in despair, she could find small joys in the day. The sun was warm against her skin, a pleasant feeling that she was only too happy to bask in like some exotic lizard; her eyes closing from time to time so she could feel the warmth upon her lids when she canted her head to the sky.
And to be fair to the others, she couldn't necessarily find any good reason to be insulted by her present company.
They all seemed nice enough, it was true. The child following in the footsteps of one of the knights was downright adorable for example, and Sitra could not help but smile at the intensity of the girl's answers to their mother, as if for all the world she were in some classroom. Byanka was reserved, but not in any way she could take offense to.
As for the other two - the blonde-haired dusker and the scholarly squire she could faintly recall by the name of Amelia?
Well she could admit, privately, to enjoying the atmosphere that they provided. Their voices and excited narration of what they were looking for kept her grounded; kept her from being lost in thought and instead focused on the task at hand, and helped her body move practically of its own accord. Listening to the conversation
also helped her studiously ignore the growing distress of her expensive breeches, allowing her to forget for a little while of the grass stains and all other manner of disasters being wrought upon the wool of her pants.
All of this to say that she followed the flower-laden group, nodding in reply whenever Amelia or Saskia clarified something they thought to be important. Otherwise she simply enjoyed the brief moments of nature away from the monastery; the chirruping of an endless menagerie of insects in the overgrowth, the soft sounds of a nearby brook, the very big world that she'd nearly forgotten from within the pale walls of her new home.
Until that was, Byanka offered a slice of wisdom from where they walked alongside one another.
"I've heard that poppies can cause sleepiness, in high enough doses,"
"They can be used as a mild sedative, it's true. My mother uses the seeds of poppies for a tea,"
Sitra was not entirely certain as to
why she suddenly decided to part her lips and speak, not when it was something she was initially more than happy to keep relegated to her private thoughts.
With that in mind, she couldn't help but to frown at her own sudden loquaciousness. At least they could say that she was frowning in contemplation if someone noticed the face she made. Better that than the consternation and confusion that she
actually felt.
"Honestly, there's so many traditional herbal uses for it in Saknne. We find reasons to boil everything, from leaf to stem."
Feeling absurdly embarrassed by her input for whatever reason, Sitra couldn't help but attempt to escape any looks that might have followed by turning again to the overhead sun with languid, lidded eyes; trying to appear as if her thoughts were a hundred miles away. And in some ways they were, to a home that she spoke of and missed dearly.
And yet another part of her was here, now. Taking part in a conversation about bloody poppies.
