Winter was approaching, whispers of colder wind heralding its inevitable approach. Still, some warmth remained within these lands. The summer had been a wet, cold one, and so the Savant hoped fervently that the winter would be much more mild in comparison. But only time would tell if her hopes came to fruition. She had only spent one winter in Nova Scotia, and she could scarcely recall the weather. She hadn't paid it any particular mind. She knew that snow had fallen, but she could not recall if there had been flurries and storms. She had been too fragile, too preoccupied to wonder or to worry about those sorts of things.
But time had changed her, healed her, re-molded her into a woman hardly recognized as herself. There were some things that were the same - she was still a quiet, gentle soul. Her voice barely sounded any louder than the southern breeze. She still loved to fade into the background, into the quiet corners of any place, and let her mind turn over words, images, and thoughts. She loved to ponder the secrets of the world, and she was still content to let some mysteries remain. But now there was a strength within her, a confidence that she had been missing when she had first arrived here.
The sun slipped below the horizon and Geneva did not make much of that. The small-boned lady was comfortable moving through these lands at any time of the day or night. She had no sense of smell to aid her, and so her lime green eyes periodically swept the border lands. Some sweet grass still stretched up from the ground, defiant in the face of winter. The pale, smoke colored sub-leader allowed her gaze to wander further, and she focused upon the form of a stranger in the distance. She loped in that direction with an easy grace before she paused a few feet from the stranger. "Can I help you?" she asked mildly.