one; a letter. ( un: sansastark )

[clothed]

[ sansa, when she finally understands the purpose of the strange, sleek brace she's been given, carefully taps out a letter for all that it might interest. ]

My heartfelt greetings to all that this letter may find.

My name is Sansa of House Stark, daughter of Eddard, Warden of The North. I write regarding the inclement weather that plagues the city now. The snow is harsh, and heavy, and to judge by the bite of the wind, it will be no less cruel.

I seek aid. I do not know how to hunt game, nor do I understand most of the meals sold in the glass-windowed shops found in this city. As well, I need cloths, and needle and thread, to fashion clothes that will stand the coming weather. I hope to sustain myself here, but know not how or where to begin. I can only offer my skills with needlework in exchange for any help.

I would be indebted for any kindness given.

( OOC: accompanying log can be found here! )

Comments

[gracile]

[Noble work.

Perhaps once upon a time it had been. But that feels like a bitter irony to read. Not that she'll let any of it bleed into a conversation with a new friend.]

Something like that, yes! Business where I come from might be a little different than what you're used to, but the principles are the same everywhere, aren't they?

And my father was very protective of me growing up, absolutely, as I'm sure yours must have been, as a lady! He taught me to be wary, but honestly, sometimes it was a little overbearing... I never had much in the way of friends before, either!

As for the food we specialized in, well... I don't suppose you've ever had coffee? Or hamburgers?

[clothed]

[lady haru is correct in her assumption - sansa's heard of neither.]

I have not heard of either, I'm afraid. They are delicacies?

And I suppose you're right in that regard, that the rules largely remain the same no matter where we end up. Fathers will always be protective of their daughters, and daughters will either be dutiful or... something else, I suppose. Does this mean the Lady Haru has a betrothal as well?

[gracile]

[Oh. That touches on something she'd rather not think about.]

I did, at one point. Fortunately, I did not have to go through with it. He was not a kind man.

But this is perhaps a little too heavy subject matter for meeting a new friend! I don't know if I'd call them delicacies per se; they're very popular food and drink for just about everyone. However, it entirely depends on what you make it with. The difference between a regular cup of coffee and a high-end gourmet cup of coffee can be vast!

[Great job changing the subject, Haru. Nobody will ever notice.]

[clothed]

[an unpleasant memory has been touched upon; sansa relents, loose-handed as the attempt at a segue may have been.]

Ah, just as a berry picked from the roadside tastes differently from a berry sheltered away in a garden. But the distinctions of flavor in this drinks - they are pronounced? Perhaps you could show me sometime?

We could make an afternoon out of it. Tea and lemon cakes, I'll make them for us, and perhaps you could bring your coffee and hamburgers?

[gracile]

Yes, exactly! And I'd be happy to show you.

[She appreciates the drop of subject. It's something she's not afraid to talk about, but not with a new friend.]

And that would be lovely, Lady Sansa! I'd be happy to bring both and introduce you to the cuisine of this world, if you'd do the same for me!

[clothed]

[ a friend. time will tell if sansa will be able to to speak with the lady haru with unreserved honesty, but for a moment she lets herself hope. she's lived this long with a dearth of friends, and of the scant few that she's made — shae is dead, margaery is dead, and whatever the hound was to her, well he's dead too.

not a great track record, as far as friends go. please don't die on her just yet. ]

I'd be honored, Lady Haru. Whenever and wherever you choose to have our day, I'll gladly go.

[gracile]

Of course! I'll take a look at my calendar.

Would it be impolite if I asked you to call me just "Haru"?