Eudalie's fingers stung with cold as she parted the snow. Her gloves were damp with chunks of ice and snow clinging to the cloth. She continued her dig until it bore fruit, or rather, carrots. A wilted smile flitted across her mouth as she unearthed a few carrots and deposited them into the satchel at her side. It was a better deal to search out here, than to hand over all of her gil to the merchants in Ul'dah. Somehow, they always managed to haggle her up.Â
A distant roar shook her concentration, and she sat back, tilting her face toward the harsh gales. There was nothing as far as she could see, only white. Eudalie pricked her ears, but only the wind howled now. She clutched a carrot in both hands and stared out into the snowy hills, until a gust pulled back her hood. She turned away and adjusted her red coat, then stumbled up onto her feet.Â
It had been some time since she'd had word of Rivienne, or had last seen Vincent. The letters from Rivienne spoke of Coerthas, and some business with retrieving her brother's belongings, but the words became scarcer and stricter, until she hadn't received any more. What sort of danger had Rivienne been so worried about? And what was the business Vincent spoke of about retrieving Rivienne? These frets were at the forefront of her thoughts while she spent time here. She'd hoped to hear some clue of Rivienne up at Whitebrim when she'd arrived, but the highlands were lonelier than she'd suspected.Â
She trudged a few paces through the snow and looked back once. The only thing left in her wake were her own footprints descending into the deeper winter rubble. It wasn't uncommon for the snow here to reach up beyond her ankles, even threatening to swallow her knees. Certainly Rivienne and Vincent didn't have such troubles in the deep snow; they were so tall! Eudalie's nose crinkled, and her face scrunched in an attempt to stave off the inevitable. She sneezed.
"I wonder if someone is thinking of me," she said to herself. That was a saying, wasn't it? She chuckled, and sneezed again.Â
"Or perhaps I'm catching a cold."Â
Eudalie sniffled and lifted her satchel in one arm, then pressed her free hand to the top of her head. The hood managed to stay put, shielding her sensitive ears from the blizzard's onslaught, but the wind still bit at her face. She stole a breath through parted lips, feeding her lungs the bitter cold. She shrugged her bag onto her shoulder, then shuddered under the weight.Â
The bag peeled open to reveal a plethora of carrots. Eudalie shifted them to make room for another two, giving way to paper wrapped packages and folded parchment beneath her latest harvest. She paused as she noticed a bit of paper peeking up, daring to crinkle before long. The carrots were deposited into the crook of her elbow, then she tugged at the papers in her bag. She struggled on the spot and finally took the corner of the letters into her mouth, biting down with only her lips to keep them safe, then fumbled to drop the carrots into her satchel. Eudalie caught a whiff of the letters' musk, and a bit of lavender, but the scent was soon lost on the frigid air. Her ivory hair spread out in front of her as the flurry grew harsher, and soon the letters followed. Her night sky eyes turned as big as supper plates and her mouth hung open. One hand lashed outward, her fingers grasping at nothing as the blizzard took the letters away.
"Wait!"
Hills of snow marked her path after her mementos, ones she now scolded herself for keeping so clumsily. She lifted her legs as much as she could and traipsed through the snow. Uphill she went, and tripped, sending carrots back into the tundra from whence they came. She landed with a grunt on her front, but pushed herself up onto her knees and clambered back onto her feet to keep running after her letters, never-minding the carrots she'd spent so long gathering. Slow and stumbling, and soon out of breath, Eudalie pressed on and made another grab for her letter. The highlands were already testing her feeble constitution, though she was determined to retrieve these pieces of paper before they got too far. She snatched one and gulped down the cold air, eager to fill her lungs again. The rosy-cheeked Miqo'te studied her catch; it was Rivienne's letter. Now she just needed to collect Vincent's.
"Come back!" Her call was labored, but she trekked with the direction of the wind. She didn't know how far she was from Whitebrim, but this was important!
A distant roar shook her concentration, and she sat back, tilting her face toward the harsh gales. There was nothing as far as she could see, only white. Eudalie pricked her ears, but only the wind howled now. She clutched a carrot in both hands and stared out into the snowy hills, until a gust pulled back her hood. She turned away and adjusted her red coat, then stumbled up onto her feet.Â
It had been some time since she'd had word of Rivienne, or had last seen Vincent. The letters from Rivienne spoke of Coerthas, and some business with retrieving her brother's belongings, but the words became scarcer and stricter, until she hadn't received any more. What sort of danger had Rivienne been so worried about? And what was the business Vincent spoke of about retrieving Rivienne? These frets were at the forefront of her thoughts while she spent time here. She'd hoped to hear some clue of Rivienne up at Whitebrim when she'd arrived, but the highlands were lonelier than she'd suspected.Â
She trudged a few paces through the snow and looked back once. The only thing left in her wake were her own footprints descending into the deeper winter rubble. It wasn't uncommon for the snow here to reach up beyond her ankles, even threatening to swallow her knees. Certainly Rivienne and Vincent didn't have such troubles in the deep snow; they were so tall! Eudalie's nose crinkled, and her face scrunched in an attempt to stave off the inevitable. She sneezed.
"I wonder if someone is thinking of me," she said to herself. That was a saying, wasn't it? She chuckled, and sneezed again.Â
"Or perhaps I'm catching a cold."Â
Eudalie sniffled and lifted her satchel in one arm, then pressed her free hand to the top of her head. The hood managed to stay put, shielding her sensitive ears from the blizzard's onslaught, but the wind still bit at her face. She stole a breath through parted lips, feeding her lungs the bitter cold. She shrugged her bag onto her shoulder, then shuddered under the weight.Â
The bag peeled open to reveal a plethora of carrots. Eudalie shifted them to make room for another two, giving way to paper wrapped packages and folded parchment beneath her latest harvest. She paused as she noticed a bit of paper peeking up, daring to crinkle before long. The carrots were deposited into the crook of her elbow, then she tugged at the papers in her bag. She struggled on the spot and finally took the corner of the letters into her mouth, biting down with only her lips to keep them safe, then fumbled to drop the carrots into her satchel. Eudalie caught a whiff of the letters' musk, and a bit of lavender, but the scent was soon lost on the frigid air. Her ivory hair spread out in front of her as the flurry grew harsher, and soon the letters followed. Her night sky eyes turned as big as supper plates and her mouth hung open. One hand lashed outward, her fingers grasping at nothing as the blizzard took the letters away.
"Wait!"
Hills of snow marked her path after her mementos, ones she now scolded herself for keeping so clumsily. She lifted her legs as much as she could and traipsed through the snow. Uphill she went, and tripped, sending carrots back into the tundra from whence they came. She landed with a grunt on her front, but pushed herself up onto her knees and clambered back onto her feet to keep running after her letters, never-minding the carrots she'd spent so long gathering. Slow and stumbling, and soon out of breath, Eudalie pressed on and made another grab for her letter. The highlands were already testing her feeble constitution, though she was determined to retrieve these pieces of paper before they got too far. She snatched one and gulped down the cold air, eager to fill her lungs again. The rosy-cheeked Miqo'te studied her catch; it was Rivienne's letter. Now she just needed to collect Vincent's.
"Come back!" Her call was labored, but she trekked with the direction of the wind. She didn't know how far she was from Whitebrim, but this was important!