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Asariel looked up at the man as he wandered closer. She had known he was there, though she had stayed silent. She offered him a smile. "Hello, sir." she listened to his request to rest with her under the tree and she scooted over and patted the spot beside her, waiting for him to come join her. She was mildly annoyed that her thinking had been disturbed, but grateful nonetheless. She looked at the man and wondered what his story was. Everyone had a story. Her own story was not too exciting or chivalrous, but she was sure there were those out there who had those kind of stories.
She smiled at the man and plucked three pieces of grass from the ground, beginning to braid them together. "So, monsieur," she said, using french for one of the few times in her life, "What is your name? My name is Asariel Knight." She paused her grass-braiding and held out her hand to shake. She found she was less exuberant than she had been when she had first arrived, but everyone's lives change as time plays its game. Gravity drags their souls down until there was nothing left to drag down. Since when had she become so dark, so brooding? Maybe it was the next step in her story.
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