+3. For my dirty lil' posting whore buddy.
At last, things were finally settling down. As the leaves turned colors, so did the young woman's attitude, turning chipper and bright as the autumn day outside her window. Birds sang along with her as she dressed in her sun-kissed dress, white ribbons elegantly tying her hair back up on her head. Giselle sang a tune as she fluttered out of her room and to the kitchen, feeling like a young girl in her cottage again, with an urge to cook. Remainders of the fat, morning ptarmigan remained, and Giselle slipped into an apron and went to work with a tune on her lips, flowing from one to the next like an easy breeze.
When the ivory hued damsel finished her project, she paused and wiped her brow with a forearm. "There, it's done~!" She declared aloud, proud of herself. Giselle knew that, soon enough, the white snows would crawl across the land, and the inside of the Manor - and its inhabitants - should be kept warm, bright, and their bellies filled. It was all she could do when she experienced her first winter, when it was too cold or dangerous to go outside in the thicket of white, and so the young woman kept sharp with her books and housework. In addition, she did it for someone she cared for, then, and now she'd spend her winter in a bigger home, with many more inhabitants.
With her stoat well asleep in her room, Giselle bit her lip as she stared down at the finished meal, quietly untying the stained apron. On a whim, she grabbed the nearest cloth and wrapped it up, stealing in another direction of the Manor. Dark hair flew behind her as she made her way up the steps, picking up the bottoms of her dress in her other hands, looking around her as if she were a child in a place she shouldn't be. The young woman slowed as she neared the door of her destination, and smoothed out her dress, the warm meal wrapped in the other hand. "Hello?" 'Elle asked, as her finger rapped on the wooden door.
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