Lion Head Mesa shield

"may i join you, lady ...?"

her head rolled, looking over a shoulder at the salt and pepper figure of a stranger. a soldier. he must have been one of the ones come to help with the murder.

once more she was reminded of how she looked.

she stayed seated, composed, tight upon herself as if it might hide the gentle width of her form.

treva, then she gestured loosely next to her. she may not have a desire to look at him from her seated place, but perhaps he would make it easier to converse by sitting near. you're one of the soldiers. less of a question, more of a solemn observation.