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Moira shows up to James' cottage with a peace offering of wine and the undisclosed item of interest she'd promised to bring tucked away in one of her old school bags. For once, her hair is pulled back in a tight bun, and she's dressed in slacks and a sweater, a sure sign that whatever she has to discuss with James, it's of a most pertinent and significant matter.
Early evening casts the woods in a slightly dimmer glow of sunlight, giving the area around James' place a rather ethereal glow. A good conduit for magic, she notes, taking in the wildflowers and brambles framing James' yard. It's dangerous, letting herself relax in the nature of this place. Someone might see her and start asking all sorts of uncomfortable questions. She shakes her head, dispelling the last of her curious gaze as she sets her face to a more determined, less open expression.
She hesitates a minute more, wondering what the hell she's getting herself into, before she knocks.
Early evening casts the woods in a slightly dimmer glow of sunlight, giving the area around James' place a rather ethereal glow. A good conduit for magic, she notes, taking in the wildflowers and brambles framing James' yard. It's dangerous, letting herself relax in the nature of this place. Someone might see her and start asking all sorts of uncomfortable questions. She shakes her head, dispelling the last of her curious gaze as she sets her face to a more determined, less open expression.
She hesitates a minute more, wondering what the hell she's getting herself into, before she knocks.
