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Karina's memories had not yielded a play nearly as sweet; and even as the warm had gently creeped beneath her skin and allowed her quiet and calm reprieve, the distant chime of bells seemed to ring forvermore in the echoing halls of her mind. She blinks, once, then twice, and calmly exhales a breath she did not know she was holding. She had intended to allow herself to dip in the shallow waters of her life, her memories, but the soft chuff of another drifts her from her planned path, perking her head from the spot she had quietly lay in.

Her head turns, and there, she sees a wolf; a monochramtic epitome of grace that stands upon the reddened earth, white and black jutting out in contrast to the maple land like an icy spire. She is beautiful, undoubtedly, and carries herself with a quiet elegance--one that is not so much imposing as the nobility she had seen drifting along the woven mats of home--but rather, the elegance of a grazing deer--or, no, she did not carry the innocent, doe-eyed ignorance she'd seen in others. A melancholic, though perhaps keen--she'd noted--, stare rests upon periwinkle eyes. Karina is never much one for compliments, but she cannot help but allow her thoughts to slip the restraint of her tongue.

"Your flowers go very well with your eyes." She speaks, though her mind catches up only seconds later--and she does well to hide her embarassment, averting her gaze briefly. Had she been nearly this nervous in face of the beauty of so many noble women before? Of course she had--little hime in face of a queen, an empresses beauty, how could she be anything but? She looks back, cautious, and dips her head to her outstretched and nimble legs that fold in front of her.

"..How long have you been there?"