[i]Roses?[/i] Javotte truly hesitated as she hadn't had since she had become accustomed to her blindness. She inhaled against the breeze and thought to herself that the smell did not smell like roses. Cinderella's Godmother grossly failed to explain the concept of a different world. Javotte had pictured them like another country. But this was almost alien. All the small, simple things she used to orient herself had shifted. 

"[color=7bcdc8]I would not step on your roses.[/color]" Javotte immediately replied as soon as she got her bearings. She tilted her head towards the masculine voice. She didn't know what he looked like, but in her head she formed a mental image of a shorter man. Middle-aged. Possibly balding. He'd be browned from the sun, looking much like the plants he obviously cared for. 

The next voice was a chiding female. She spoke with the same strange accent as the man. She was obvious either a higher ranking servant or the mistress. She was leaning towards the former because her words were slurred, like mush was in her mouth. She pictured a fatter woman to go with the kindly words. For in Javotte's life everyone who had shown kindness had been on the rather portly side with no apparent beauty.

"[color=7bcdc8]I am not lost.[/color]" Javotte said then paused. "[color=7bcdc8]But perhaps I am. I know not where I am other than I am trespassing. For that I apologize. And you are most kind to offer breakfast. I wouldn't mind a few bites.[/color]" Javotte would never turn down kindness, and who knew when she would again get the chance to eat in their strange world. Though if it was morning here, there would be a good chance she would get no sleep.