Another time.
Another day.
Another afternoon winding on into the late hours of the day. That lazy, half defined time after the Funpark has closed but there is still many hours of daylight left. Lazy summer afternoon. Not much to do. Quiet time of contentment at the end of the day - an ideal time for the Emerald Court to gather and plan. Ingrid makes her way to the Wishing Well.
Today the Darkling is attempting to blend in: a summery dress, closed shoes, light cardigan in a clashing colour, a floppy broad brimmed hat and sunglasses. A new bag hangs from a shoulder, all crisp leather and gleaming buckle.
Ingrid has an ice cream cone in her hand; her little long tongue snakes out to caress the soft white confection; her lips, stained in red plum coloured streaks, puckers and flexes as she takes a bit out of the the wafer cone. The hint of wind is subtle, so her mantle waxes strong about her, bathing her in the scent of ripe plums. The Wishing Well stands alone but it does foreground a little space reserved for seating and dining; this she ignores for the rustic simplicity of the well.
Staring into the depths, Ingrid wonders if she should give into temptation and make a wish.
@Brigid Forn Clakes Seraphina Orianna