[A.wanda arrives the first day carrying a basket of pies and other freshly baked goods, setting the baskets down from the cart they were brought in with. she's trying to figure out the best way to get these from point A to point B. perhaps someone would be kind enough to lend her a hand, much as her hands are getting filled up with presents of cups and socks and tea to carry—certainly all things she's very appreciative of.
once settled within, B. she will leave her things inside the tent and explore much of what there is to offer in the secondary settlement. she had been here before, once, about four moons ago, but her visit had been short and quite straightforward. now, she gets to meet anew some old faces, like isar hart, and wonder at his most beautiful sheep. wanda puts a hand to its horns, gently, and is impressed by it, though she is quite noticeably a little hesitant about getting too close.
once isar has moved along with his sheep, wanda comments to another summoned as she steps on over towards the area with the flowers.]
He's really fond of animals, isn't he?
[there's his dog, and then the sheep... kind of nice to see such distinct personalities amidst the commune.
otherwise, her other haunt will be by C. the pond, where one of the kids has given her a rudimentary fishing rod for her to use. wanda has never done this, so is it any surprise that she struggle a little, standing by the edge of said pond, trying to get the casting right?]
—I can do it. [she protests, should someone come tell her to maybe take a break.] I've never done this before, but I want to try.
POTLUCK
No.
[A. wanda refuses to be convinced to go and get some flowers for her hair. she is quite stubborn in that regard, even if the young girls who hold at her hands try their very best to get that 'no' to become an 'alright'. maybe it's because she's been here before months ago, but their familiarity with her seems a little too friendly.]
You should put the flower crowns on your hair instead.
[and definitely not hers.
B. it is no secret at all that wanda prepared some of the baked goods brought in for the potluck. it's sentimental food to her, given that these are recipes she remembers (almost accurately) from home, from sokovia, and isn't there something meaningful about sharing her culture, keeping it alive, even if it won't mend anything at all?]
Do you like it? [she asks abruptly as she takes a seat beside someone who has decided to take a slice of the fruit pie she made. she's got a plate with a slice herself, too, halfway eaten, a cup of tea (thank you, claire) on her other hand.] I remember my mother's being so much tastier than this one, but I tried my best.
[ah, it's a childhood thing.]
NIGHT'S END
[wanda can't sleep.
she's been walking outside, trying to find some hot water and tea herbs to add to it. if nothing else, she can delight in some stargazing while having a hot cup of tea between her hands. once she finds a cup, she sits on a log, legs and feet tucked inward, pressing her lips to the rim of the cup. from her boots, the socks they were given as a gift stick out. the moon's a waxing crescent, barely illuminating the world below it.
makes looking up at the stars so much nicer, though.
wanda hears a sound approaching her, but she knows she's not the only one who can't (or is incapable of) sleep.]
—SOLVUNN GALA [ OTA ]
[A. wanda arrives the first day carrying a basket of pies and other freshly baked goods, setting the baskets down from the cart they were brought in with. she's trying to figure out the best way to get these from point A to point B. perhaps someone would be kind enough to lend her a hand, much as her hands are getting filled up with presents of cups and socks and tea to carry—certainly all things she's very appreciative of.
once settled within, B. she will leave her things inside the tent and explore much of what there is to offer in the secondary settlement. she had been here before, once, about four moons ago, but her visit had been short and quite straightforward. now, she gets to meet anew some old faces, like isar hart, and wonder at his most beautiful sheep. wanda puts a hand to its horns, gently, and is impressed by it, though she is quite noticeably a little hesitant about getting too close.
once isar has moved along with his sheep, wanda comments to another summoned as she steps on over towards the area with the flowers.]
He's really fond of animals, isn't he?
[there's his dog, and then the sheep... kind of nice to see such distinct personalities amidst the commune.
otherwise, her other haunt will be by C. the pond, where one of the kids has given her a rudimentary fishing rod for her to use. wanda has never done this, so is it any surprise that she struggle a little, standing by the edge of said pond, trying to get the casting right?]
—I can do it. [she protests, should someone come tell her to maybe take a break.] I've never done this before, but I want to try.
No.
[A. wanda refuses to be convinced to go and get some flowers for her hair. she is quite stubborn in that regard, even if the young girls who hold at her hands try their very best to get that 'no' to become an 'alright'. maybe it's because she's been here before months ago, but their familiarity with her seems a little too friendly.]
You should put the flower crowns on your hair instead.
[and definitely not hers.
B. it is no secret at all that wanda prepared some of the baked goods brought in for the potluck. it's sentimental food to her, given that these are recipes she remembers (almost accurately) from home, from sokovia, and isn't there something meaningful about sharing her culture, keeping it alive, even if it won't mend anything at all?]
Do you like it? [she asks abruptly as she takes a seat beside someone who has decided to take a slice of the fruit pie she made. she's got a plate with a slice herself, too, halfway eaten, a cup of tea (thank you, claire) on her other hand.] I remember my mother's being so much tastier than this one, but I tried my best.
[ah, it's a childhood thing.]
[wanda can't sleep.
she's been walking outside, trying to find some hot water and tea herbs to add to it. if nothing else, she can delight in some stargazing while having a hot cup of tea between her hands. once she finds a cup, she sits on a log, legs and feet tucked inward, pressing her lips to the rim of the cup. from her boots, the socks they were given as a gift stick out. the moon's a waxing crescent, barely illuminating the world below it.
makes looking up at the stars so much nicer, though.
wanda hears a sound approaching her, but she knows she's not the only one who can't (or is incapable of) sleep.]
I wonder if these constellations have a name.
[if they're different from those back home.]