[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Nora Kingston[/color][/h1][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/54652ed085c6eb8fafa6ebd3fa2a48bb/tumblr_o7lty1TecE1rfd7lko1_400.gif[/img][hr][color=00ccff][b]Location[/b][/color]: Garden City - Apartment 301 Maratos Building at No.6 Walda Pasha[/center][hr][hr]At the mention of her husbandly prospects potentially diminishing from the scarring, Nora felt a sense of relief. Marriage had never been something she had in mind for herself--in general, she was quite afraid of it. Unable to have children or confine herself to societal expectations, the entire business of marriage seemed to invite despair and nastiness to her. She would be better off left alone. Perhaps intentionally allowing all to see the mark could work in her favor--yet she also knew that her father would be liable to throw her in a home in the countryside for psychiatric treatment. 

[color=00ccff]"Yes, yes, bobbles and trinkets,"[/color] Nora said absentmindedly, making a mental note to clean the wound more often than the doctor stated. She had no intention of falling ill due to infection or the like. The bill would be quite easy to pay, with the meager funds her father allowed her from her work for him. But of course, a far more pressing matter then remained--what caused this injury to occur? 

For the life of her, Nora could not fathom a logical explanation. She had witnessed the entire event, felt the burning pain, and had the wound as evidence. Yet there had been no one there to brand her--her senses must have deceived her, or perhaps, the illogical was real. It was a troubling line of thought, and one that Nora hoped would subside shortly. There would be some explanation for the mark soon enough.