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

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

"[color=66cd00]What is yours, Schwarz?[/color]"

The air was returning to normal, the sudden rise in pressure fading to a state where people could breathe once more. Her crude mockery of a smile readjusted itself, smoothing out into the impassive expression that others had come to expect of her. It was as if nothing bizarre had even taken place at all. Only the existence of her own question, the words hanging in the air between them, proved the existence of the path their conversation had taken to reach this point.

It was a question she usually would not have asked. Small talk was a foolish banality, a useless waste of breath, and from certain points of view, her inquiry was no more than more small talk. However, there was a purpose to this question of hers. The Mistralese teenager wanted to know. It would further define the variables she needed to consider if she were to successfully research the wild strands of hair on Luke Schwarz's head.

What drove him?

And thus, what drove the hair to react?