[ The scent of old magic hung in the air as Y'shtola perused the books stacked on the far shelf; their worn bindings and near-brittle pages spoke well of their age as she delicately leafed through them, setting them back into their resting places with a tenderness reserved for fragile, valuable things. A fire crackled merrily across the way in the near-deserted inn, and Y'shtola couldn't help the desire to lazily curl up in the cushions before it with one of the books she'd found on the shelf.
Who was she to deny temptation? She had the time, and while the books were written in a foreign tongue, it didn't make them any less intriguing.
Selecting a promising volume with numerous flowers and herbs adorning its face, Y'shtola gracefully descends into a space at the edge of the couch before the fire, folding her legs underneath her before laying the book open upon her lap. ]
I'M WINGIN' IT forgive me if this doesn't work, i'll change 4 u bby
Who was she to deny temptation? She had the time, and while the books were written in a foreign tongue, it didn't make them any less intriguing.
Selecting a promising volume with numerous flowers and herbs adorning its face, Y'shtola gracefully descends into a space at the edge of the couch before the fire, folding her legs underneath her before laying the book open upon her lap. ]