+3. This table depresses me dearly.
There was something wicked in the air, something foul and cruel, and it drew nearer like a gray cloud bursting with rain. Giselle had found herself at her balcony, leaning heavily on an arm as she watched the world slowly lose its color, like being painted with a grey paint brush. Pale blue eyes admired the soft yellows, warm oranges, and deep crimsons of the sunset, the dappled sunlight hanging lazily from the trees overhead; yet her heart was not in song, and there was no bright smile to see away the warm day. Her knot of emotions had gotten to the young girl over the last few days, and since then things seemed to not seem so bright, or taste as sweet. And so, as she let the soft breeze of autumn run through her hair, Giselle stared out at the world, wishing she had wings.
A rustle came from a tree down below, and it snapped her out of her dreaming reverie. Placing her hands firmly on the balcony, the mahogany haired woman peered down, but saw nothing but the growing darkness of the earth. H-hello? Is anyone there? She called, looking towards the source of the noise. But it was gone as soon as it had come, and Giselle could only think it was a passing creature. The pale princess sighed, and began to turn back towards her room when she heard a noise again, and then a strange scent. Her curious expression melted away and became instant fear, something she hadn't felt since the savages came.
The young woman darted into her room and began to grab her frying pan and crammed her satchel full of belongings. Tux leaped from the bed and joined her as Giselle scrambled out the door, fearing the worst. If her nose truly could not deceive her, then what she had scented was one of ... them. The young woman felt others in the Manor knew, and though fear tied her stomach tighter with each step, Giselle slipped out the back door of the building, making her way towards the stables. There was no time to react, and the woman had to call for help before it was far too late.
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