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She is a spin of color in an otherwise colorless world, choked by the icy fingers of winter. A breath of fresh life against the gray, the solemnity woven into the forest thick around you. In another time you may have thought that she is beautiful (and is she not? Subtle curves, baby-fine hair as black as indian ink, eyes that could swallow the sky---) but there is something about her that turns you off, sets your heart to stone as you approach her, your smile soulless against the tightness of your lips, mismatched eyes unwavering from the northern blue of hers.
"Welcome to Helovia." You can remember what it felt like to be her, though you doubt that you had ever looked so sure of yourself, the way she walks with an air of what you imagine to be over-confidence. You fight to suppress the laugh that blooms in your throat, sharp and mocking. Had your assumptions not been the reason of your previous failure here, with the leopard-spotted girl? It is released in a breath, a soft huff against the chill of the air. "I'm Enna, of Aurora Basin." The syllables of your home are laced with an unmistakable pride, some of the warmth seeping back into that smile of yours. "What is your name?"
You will try this time, try to ignore the assumptions swarming in your head, try to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it is your attempt at atonement for the (slim, so very slim) chance that you had screwed up before, maybe for her sake, an offer for a home at least for the remaining hold of winter. "Is there something you're looking for?"
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