"Upon occasion, aye" she admitted softly, the sadness perhaps even more evident. "And there seems to be naught to be done help...such pain..." she shook her head softly, tea mug cradled against her chest.
"Might I ask, Lady, why you are curious of such? Most wish to know of dangers to themselves, truth, but not more..." she offered delicately.
no subject
"Might I ask, Lady, why you are curious of such? Most wish to know of dangers to themselves, truth, but not more..." she offered delicately.