[center][h1][color=lightblue]Cilia Cosgair[/color][/h1]

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[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4922486]Link to Cilia's Sheet[/url]

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As she brought in another arm full of wood, she placed it by the fire.
The thunk of a melon hitting the stone and then the swearing, made Cilia giggle a little. It wasn't that she found it funny, well she did a little. But it expressed most effectively the best description of the day. It was a rich person swearing, not quite as vulgar as what she was use to. No one was doing things to sheep or goats or cats.
 
"Let me look at your head," she said to Fergus as she came close to him. In a tone that indicated this was an order and not a option and staring off his masculine pride protests.  She made sure he was okay then she sat down in a way that he could use her lap as a pillow if he wanted.   She was alone in a new way. A way she had never known. She needed contact from another living being. She motion to Axley that she could use her as a pillow too, if she wanted. She started to hum, as is the way of women. 

The loss of things wasn't pleasing to her. She thought about the loss of the shopkeep that chased her away with a broom in the morning, but left her food when he closed the shop. The wash women that would "loose" some clothing when the seasons were changing to keep her warm. The healer that would send her to pick things when she or the dogs were sick. She thought of the baker that would have her help in the coldest parts of winter so she could sleep near a hearth. She even missed the trader that always said the stuff she found was worthless and placed it in his shop window for ten times what he paid her. She missed the boys that Snow had teaching to watch over the neighborhood, the ones that always let Snow know when she or one of the other girls were in trouble. She really missed sitting in the class with the children as they were learning their letters and listening to stories. She missed her stray dogs. They were all gone and so was her tears.
 
Magics, the undead, machines that fired shells like they experienced were just stories parents told their children to get them to behave and to keep them away from girls like her. They weren't real and now they were. 

Cilia crushed some wild lavender and mint to keep the bugs away. Then she undid the braids of her long hair and rubbed the oils into it to protect them from the flying insects.