[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190811/ebaf9cbdde92c7897e853938cfe68fe5.png[/img]

[color=6E8E67]Location:[/color] Inside of a small, sad house within a small, sad town  ---> The Carriage[/center][hr][hr]

She lifted the flute from its home within the box.  There was nothing much else of interest in the small wooden crate.  She investigated the object, fingers roaming over the holes as the faint smells of yore touched her nose.  The wood was badly damaged and even smelled of invading mildew.  She suspected that, even if she were a talented flute player, this particular instrument would have played quite poorly.  She set the object back into the box and closed the lid once more.  She idled beside it a few beats as she considered whether or not to take it with her.  She decided, at last, she would and vanished the box with a flick of her fingers.

Now that the immediate interesting thing had disappeared she noticed a nagging she had been, up until now, ignoring.  It pulled at her power, thrummed over her heartstrings, and generally made a mess of her worn nerves.  It made her feel ill.  She frowned and touched a hand to her chest as she stood and exited the house.  She looked around as if the thing might appear to her but she could tell from the subtlety of the urging that whatever it was that pulled at her in this way was not close.  Or it was very, very small.

She attempted to push it from her mind as she wandered further into town.  More abandoned homes.  More sad memories.  The place just reeked of it.  She rubbed a hand over her face and it came away wet.  Fatima realized she had started to cry again.  In frustrated anger, she scrubbed away the salted water from her cheeks.  When Fatima had finished she found she was standing in an open field.  Perhaps it had once been some sort of garden or park, but now it was claimed by the wild.  Tall grasses were interspersed with Witch Blood.  A great sadness welled up in her again and clapped her hands over her cheeks, causing them to turn red with the sting of her palms.  She turned from the stupid park to head back to the stupid carriage where all her stupid allies were.  Okay, her allies weren't stupid.  She was just feeling upset and she had to remind herself that she shouldn't take it out on any of them.

Fatima soon approached the small group and made a line straight for Jandar without much of a look toward any of the others.  She placed a hand on his wrist and leaned her forehead against the same arm as she closed her eyes.  She had missed everything that had just been spoken about and so was feeling a little out of place.  She just needed a moment, someone to lean on until she had her wits about her again.  Though, it had been at least a day since her wits were anywhere within arms reach.