Nephele's feet ached. Yes, that seemed like the most important thing to consider at the moment as she wandered through one of the many winding streets of the old city. Rather, they<em>hurt.</em>A sigh spilled from her lips as a slim hand lifted to delicately pluck and pull at the faded amethyst shade of her hood, drawing it lower over her face as if to hide her visage all the more; enough so none would see her eyes. Enough that she could see the ground she strode.<br/><br/>It had been building for a year now, that sense of urgency; gnawing at her dreams, at her now aching legs. A burning to... to do something. Wanderlust, her mother had called it. Of course, at the time, she couldn't have imagined ever wanting to leave her wonderful embrace of home. The heat of cooling pies upon windowsills tickling the nose, the chatting of women at doors. The steady stride of men out to accomplish business; people were always busy in her village. Once, almost long ago, she might have even called it a township - they'd had a major, a Council, a woman's Circle. It had all seemed official, and some of the farms had been positively huge. Then she'd seen Golgotha.<br/><br/>The degradation of the walls surrounding it, of broken spires and towers that abruptly ended; all should have hinted at what she'd find. Yet even in its decay, it seemed so... grand. More than once she'd seen a single building -<em>It had to have been a palace!</em>- that she could've fit five... maybe six of Larlian's Bridge within. As large as six of her village fitted within. She had to repress a shudder at the thought. She'd been half-gaping the entire time as the cart she'd hooked a ride with rattled down the road towards one of the "official" entrances.<br/><br/>The thought of the wagon just brought another aching twinge up her calf as she narrowly avoided something squishy and dark. She'd made most of her travel in that way, hailing a cart or wagon, having them take her as far as they were going. Then walking till dusk and holing up in an Inn... or, sometimes, a home if she could manage. A sweet smile or two was enough, most times. The emptiness of her pouch spoke of when it had not been.<br/><br/>A heavy sigh spilled from her lips as her thoughts turned to darker things; things to distract. She'd traveled so swiftly partially thanks to the neatly folded letter than practically burned like a coal within the pocket of her skirt. Reminding her of a murky future and what she'd done. Her mother would handle things, she was sure however; a comforting thought in all the mess she'd left behind. Either leaving, if necessary. Or making damned sure everyone knew her little girl had gotten a missive from what had once been the grandest city of all. She... hoped... it'd be enough to dissuade the man she'd scorned; enough, at least, to keep him from her family.<br/><br/>She<em>almost</em>walked right into the heavy door, so deep in thought was she. Only the slight slinking of something alive, nearby, drew her gold-hued attention. Studying the animal with equal uncertainty that her smooth features didn't display. Just as she was about to say something to the poor dog-o, a heavy<em>SLINK!</em>of metal drew her attention; and her gaze upwards. Meeting the narrowed view of a man far taller than she. Her lips parted for a second as if to utter something - yet, for once, she was drawn to speechlessness. The same horrible (now) sensation of when she'd first met... that man.<em>Is he implying I'm...</em><br/><br/>Stilled for a second or two as her mind raced. Her features adopting her usual expression when confused, shy, or scared; a twist of the corner of her lips that drew those darkly stained petals into a near sardonic smirk. Or, maybe, mischievous if one found it amusing. Her eyes practically shone in the dark, drinking in what little light there was. A shift of her body cocking her hip easily to the side, the tightness of a lace corset pulling her waist all the narrower. Her dress light in bulk, easily shaping itself to her frame that was equal parts lithe and plush in the most appropriate of ratios. Only her chest was perhaps modest, though the clinch of her charcoal corset and the plunging decotelage of her dress ensured there was much to see. Normally, her attire would display her shoulders as well, yet a shawl kept it hidden, along with her face - at least when she wasn't straining her neck to peer up.<br/><br/><strong>"I have come..."</strong>A pause. Wait.<em>Didn't the letter say not to talk to anyone?</em>She'd... failed at that. Clearly. Before this conversation even, though the urge to display the letter to him now seemed a bad idea; was she to keep it a secret? Her brows furrowed together in thought for a moment, as if to work it all out. Until she finally finished her statement.<br/><br/><strong>"...Because I was summoned."</strong>Yet another pause, yet the way her lips curled around those words... it seemed more deliberate. A smoky response, rather than her trying to come up with things on the spot.