[H3][color=goldenrod]Anathema Dunn[/color][/h3]
Time: Early Morning, Location: Traveling to Dawnhaven / Communal Hotspring

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She climbed off the stagecoach, weary from the long trip to Dawnhaven from her childhood home. She was still on the outskirts of town and would be walking the rest of the way. The stagedriver unceremoniously dropped her two bags on the ground beside her pointed in the direction of Dawnhaven with only an "umf". She was about to offer him her thanks when he whipped the horses in motion. Her clothes were rumpled, and her hair was unruly after the long trip. Anathema attempted to smooth her dress and coat, a new, blue-grey, woolen bulk to which she had not yet become accustomed, and attempted to tame her frizzled curls before giving up. She would just have to hope that her ruffled appearance would be forgiven today and forgotten tomorrow. Sighing, Anathema patted her journal, safely stored in the generous pocket of her dress, and gathered her minimal luggage. 

She began to meander in the general direction of her new lodging. Anathema tried to make a mental map, tried to be aware of her surroundings, tried to know where her feet took her, and oh how she tried. She was tired and her body was stiff from the hours spent in the jostling stage. In a way, the walking felt good--restorative. She made no mental map, she was largely unaware of her surroundings, she wasn't sure where her feet were leading. She stopped. Her honey eyes surveyed her surroundings languidly, her feet had led her to a hotspring.

[Color=goldenrod][i]'Maybe...'[/i][/color]  the thought faltered and trailed off before its full formation.

The air surrounding the hotspring was warm and humid. For the first time since she had left Aurelia, the home of her birth, Anathema felt the swelling knot of homesickness catch in her throat. She wondered if Dawnhaven would become home. She promised herself to write to her parents when she settled for the night, they would like to know she arrived safely. They hadn't been happy when she had told them she was leaving; there had been tears, yelling, even begging. Anathema thought of the sunny, silken scarf her mother had gifted her at their parting. Yellows and oranges, trimmed in gold tread, to remember Aurelia--and them.

[Color=goldenrod][i]'Maybe my feet knew I needed to come here.'[/i][/color] she finished her earlier thought, moisture beginning to collect on her brow.

She dropped her luggage and shedded her new coat, her shoes and stockings, leaving them neatly gathered on the bank of the spring. She stepped into the spring, rewarding her feet for having brought her here. Then, as she flexed her toes in the water, she noticed someone else at the hotspring not so far off from where Anathema stood now. Anathema's face grew hot from under her skin.

[Color=goldenrod]"I am so sorry."[/color] She balked, sweeping her dress up in once hand to keep it above the water as she waded closer to the someone else, [color=goldenrod]"How rude of me! I am Anathema."[/color]

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