[@Silvan Haven][@Write][@HereComesTheSnow][@Plank Sinatra]

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/foO0yFo.png[/img][/center]

"[color=66cd00]No, because my purpose here was obviously for some other event,[/color]" was the controlled, measured reply from Gratia Mindaro. Her tone was impassive, but it was quite clear that her words were sarcastic in nature. "[color=66cd00]Ask me when there are no longer any ships in sight.[/color]"

The black-haired girl exited into the cold sea air, each and every movement wasting no energy whatsoever. She was silent, much like she had been during the car trip over. Her attention, it seemed, was focused on taking in the scent of this port. It was similar, yet noticeably different, to her own home.

The air was new to her.

It was a foreign country here. Not Mistral.

The salt in the wind ... the spray of the sea ... it was all different.