12-21-2015, 08:41 PM
She hasn't, in all truth, been back in Denver overly long but it doesn't prevent Kiara from surfacing from her post-travel weariness long enough to make an appearance at the Chantry come the 21st.
She comes bearing a bottle of wine (an impressively aged Merlot), wrapped in a white hooded coat with faux-fur trimmings around the sleeves and collar and possessing the faint tracings of a tan from time in the Hawaiian sun. When she hangs her coat on a peg by the door, her outfit for the evening's festivities is revealed to be a flowing white dress, long sleeved for the season and inlaid with gold thread so that it glimmers becomingly in the firelight as Kiara mingles throughout the evening.
She admires the spread laid out, makes a point to find each of the Chantry's permanent residents to offer quiet embraces and tidings for Yule and spends several minutes speaking in low, somber tones with Sasha. The Verbana stands by the tree and the fireside at a later point with a glass in her hand, studying the basket of vials with contemplation - anyone could have been mistaken to assume the pagan was responsible for each, given the way they hummed with her shared resonance.
She doesn't take one, Kiara, rather watches them for a time and allows the others to take one if they so wish. The brunette remains there long into the night, though at some point, she'll be discovered curled on the sofa before the fire, the flames painting her skin into shades of soft, orange-gold, her arm draped low over the floor beside a glass of wine.
She comes bearing a bottle of wine (an impressively aged Merlot), wrapped in a white hooded coat with faux-fur trimmings around the sleeves and collar and possessing the faint tracings of a tan from time in the Hawaiian sun. When she hangs her coat on a peg by the door, her outfit for the evening's festivities is revealed to be a flowing white dress, long sleeved for the season and inlaid with gold thread so that it glimmers becomingly in the firelight as Kiara mingles throughout the evening.
She admires the spread laid out, makes a point to find each of the Chantry's permanent residents to offer quiet embraces and tidings for Yule and spends several minutes speaking in low, somber tones with Sasha. The Verbana stands by the tree and the fireside at a later point with a glass in her hand, studying the basket of vials with contemplation - anyone could have been mistaken to assume the pagan was responsible for each, given the way they hummed with her shared resonance.
She doesn't take one, Kiara, rather watches them for a time and allows the others to take one if they so wish. The brunette remains there long into the night, though at some point, she'll be discovered curled on the sofa before the fire, the flames painting her skin into shades of soft, orange-gold, her arm draped low over the floor beside a glass of wine.