[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/ssxt53R/Thalia-Evercrest.png[/img][/center][sub] Location: Eye of the Beholder [right] Interactions: None/Open[/right][/sub][hr]
[indent][color=#ffffff]The room was small but warm, with a single bed and a narrow cot, the walls carrying the faint scent of wood smoke and age. Thalia Evercrest paced near the window, brushing her fingers along the frosty glass as she looked out over the snow-dusted rooftops of Dawnhaven. The distant hum of voices drifted up from downstairs, where the inn’s common room was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional burst of song. The celebration had started hours ago, marking some small victory over the harsh winter storm that had battered the settlement.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her father sat in the chair by the fire, his broad frame sinking into the worn wood as he unlaced his boots. The golden light from the flames danced across his face, illuminating the sharp lines and gray streaks in his dark hair. He let out a low sigh, rubbing his hands together to chase the last traces of cold from his fingers. The single bed stood against one wall, barely large enough to be comfortable for a man his size, while the cot—little more than a stretch of fabric on a wooden frame—occupied the opposite corner. Thalia’s lips twitched in irritation every time her gaze landed on it.

Curled up on the floor near the fire, Lark, her loyal sheepdog, let out a soft snore. His shaggy coat rose and fell in rhythm with his breaths, the warmth of the hearth clearly lulling him into peaceful slumber. Thalia’s expression softened as her eyes rested on him. For all her grumbling about the conditions of the room, Lark’s presence was an undeniable comfort. She knelt for a moment, running a hand through his thick fur, which was still damp in patches from the journey. Lark stirred slightly, his tail thumping once before settling again.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]As she stood, Thalia tweaked the hem of her long, thick coat, made from a durable wool that would keep her warm in harsh weather. Although its dark green colour was a humble choice, it was a discreet tribute to her elegant past. Beneath the coat, she wore practical yet cozy clothing, consisting of sturdy boots, a thick and warm sweater, and a soft scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The scarf, with its pale hue and delicate embroidery, was a thoughtful gift from her mother before they departed - a small reminder of comfort and security for the challenging journey ahead.[/color]

[color=#663399]“One bed,”[/color][color=#ffffff] she muttered, shaking her head as she turned away from the fire. [/color][color=#663399]“This is what they call hospitality? Might as well have pitched a damn tent in the snow.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her father's eyebrow arched upwards, a hint of amusement dancing on his face. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“You'd find fault with the finest of places if something didn't meet your exacting standards,”[/b][/color][color=#ffffff] he said, settling back in his chair with a soft groan. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“You're as particular as a perfectionist when it comes to your surroundings.”[/b][/color]

[color=#663399]“A palace, at least, would offer some basic comforts,” [/color][color=#ffffff]she retorted, her tone playful but laced with annoyance. She wrapped her arms around herself, casting a disdainful glance at the single bed once more. [/color][color=#663399]“And don't even get me started on sleeping arrangements. You're taking that tiny cot, and I'm going to have to deal with a bad back just thinking about it.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff][b]“Generous of you,”[/b] [/color][color=#ffffff]he replied dryly. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“But I’ll manage. It’s not as if we’re staying forever.”[/b][/color]

[color=#ffffff]Thalia let out a subtle sigh, her annoyance mixing with a twinge of regret. She knew the innkeeper wasn't to blame for the shortages - after all, Dawnhaven was still recovering from the storm, with people packed into every available spot. The inn itself was a patchwork of fixes, its walls adorned with rickety windows and mismatched furniture that told the story of its rushed construction. Despite this, Thalia couldn't shake off her growing irritation. Everything about this place felt provisional, unstable - like one strong gust might send it all crashing down.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her gaze lingered on the scarf for a moment before she adjusted it. It reminded her of her mother, left behind at the family’s diminished estate. The absence was a hollow thing, one she rarely acknowledged aloud. Her mother had claimed she was staying to recover from an illness—and to restore their name, working tirelessly to secure a match for Thalia now that Flynn was out of reach.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]She suppressed a snort at the thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. [/color][color=#663399][i]As if a husband is what I need right now.[/i][/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her father’s voice broke the silence. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“You should go down there and mingle,”[/b][/color][color=#ffffff] he suggested. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“People here aren’t just settlers—they’re your neighbours now. Best to make a few friends while we’re all still figuring out how to survive this place.”[/b][/color]

[color=#ffffff]Thalia raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical, but she didn't immediately respond to the invitation. While she was comfortable mingling with others - she could effortlessly work a room, making new acquaintances with ease - there was a particular kind of vulnerability that came with entering a social gathering where people might already be aware of her family's scandals. The thought of being the center of unwanted attention, with strangers forming opinions about her and her loved ones based on rumours and half-truths, made her feel somewhat anxious. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her gaze drifted back to the window, feeling its chill even from where she stood. She could easily get lost in her frustration, waiting for her father to deal with the questions that would surely come from these strangers. Or, she could take a stand and go downstairs to face them head-on, showing that despite their family's fall from power, they hadn't lost their spirit.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]A small, mischievous smile played on her lips. She knew she wasn't one to shy away from challenges. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]After a moment's hesitation, Thalia made up her mind and spoke aloud: [/color][color=#663399]“I'll go down,”[/color][color=#ffffff] she said with a flourish.[/color][color=#663399]“But only because I'm curious to see if this party is as dull as the rest of this place.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Her father chuckled, leaning back in his chair. [/color][color=#ffffff][b]“Just don’t scare them too much, dear.”[/b][/color]

[color=#ffffff]Thalia shot him a smirk over her shoulder. [/color][color=#663399]“I’ll do my best to leave a few of them standing. Can’t have the whole town cowering this early on, after all.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]As she opened the door, the lively sounds of the celebration spilled out, growing louder with each step. The soft glow of lanterns cast a warm ambiance, illuminating her path as she made her way downstairs. Her footsteps echoed softly on the worn wooden floors, the creaking of the old wood barely audible over the music and laughter.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The common room was a stark contrast to the quiet of their room. Settlers crowded around tables, their faces flushed from drink and warmth, their voices rising in bursts of laughter and song. The fire in the hearth roared, casting flickering light across the room. Thalia paused at the foot of the stairs, her hazel eyes scanning the crowd.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]She took a deep breath, straightened her scarf, and stepped forward. If Dawnhaven was going to be her new home, she might as well start making herself known. 

On her own terms.[/color][/indent]