[She recognizes the smell of the cinnamon, more from the change the Malnosso put her through, making her think she was born and raised here.
She takes it, puts it in the bowl with the dry kindling and then... gets up briefly to find leaves. Green leaves. She wrings them out as best she can. They might not burn well, but they'll smoke.
Smoke to burn her eyes. To excuse any tears that fall.
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Date: 2012-06-27 02:55 am (UTC)From:She takes it, puts it in the bowl with the dry kindling and then... gets up briefly to find leaves. Green leaves. She wrings them out as best she can. They might not burn well, but they'll smoke.
Smoke to burn her eyes. To excuse any tears that fall.
Plenty of smoke.]