Kiara got given the grand tour of the Chantry by Grace and spent a little while hanging out by the Node, introducing herself to Callisto, etc. She's planning on coming and spending time at the Chantry now and then, mostly to soak in those sweet, sweet Node vibes but also to begin familiarizing herself with the territory.
At some point, she'll likely claim a bedroom upstairs for occasional overnighters. Also nobody should be in the least surprised if plants begin to appear. Kiara has a thing for ferns. She doesn't yet have Library access but she's investigating (or will) how to make that happen, also.
After New Years
Kiara spends a few days at the Chantry over the course of this week. She doesn't introduce any major changes to the house, but - the plants that survive out there seem a little brighter, there's a spider fern that appears in the kitchen one morning; vibrant and green and cheerful with wild pointed leaves that almost seem questing for the winter sunshine.
One of the bedrooms upstairs gets a temporary guest; clothes and a suitcase and thick blankets; Kiara on some evenings; for a short recess here and there. The spring gets frequent visits; Kiara alone, Kiara ... not so alone.
Callisto likely tolerates the comings and goings. Food is cooked; stored in the fridge; notes clipped there saying what's in each container. Fruits and vegetables spread across the counters for the days the Verbena is there. Bottles of wine are uncorked; the fireplace is stoked and the house smells rich with things like sandalwood; lavender; sage and rose for days after she returns to the city after these pilgrimages.
And every other day, flowers appear. In vases; in the kitchen; wild most. Touches of nature infringing into the Chantry's depths from its newest visitor.
The Verbena comes to the Chantry the day after Beltane.
She feels a little different - still that invigorating; intoxicating wash of rejuvenating energy but stronger; the potency of Kiara's presence is a little clearer; a little more powerful but - altered. Accompanying the surge of dynamism is a steady thrum; a pulse; as if Kiara's very essence were beating out a rhythm; as if to be around her was to be suddenly and totally presented with what it was to be alive. To feel the pump of blood in your veins; pulsing in time with each beat of your heart.
She spends hours at the Node; soaking in the spring with her eyes closed. Tends to the flowers she'd planted during the winter months; leaves them verdant and blooming and sweet-scented.
She comes to the Chantry for midsummer, in the early afternoon when the sun is basking high; clouds skittering across blue skies out of reach toward the mountains. She comes, the pagan, because of course she does in all her splendor. Dressed in flowing white and blue; her wrists and neck heavy with adornments and a bunch of newly picked wildflowers in hand.
Brings them into the ranch as an offering for the cabal in residence as well as fresh fruit of the season. Slices it up and eats it out on the deck with her feet tucked beneath her; savoring the sweet burst of strawberries on her tongue and soaking in the warmth of the solstice sun.
When evening falls, she stokes up a small fire and stares into it; feeding it bundles of dried herbs; the snap and crackle of it becoming fragrant with lavender and heartsease, vervain and mistletoe. When it begins to smoke and die; she scrapes the ashes into small pouches and mixes it with fresh springwater. Before she departs, the brunette is glimpsed walking the boundaries of the land, sprinkling handfuls of the ashes into the earth.
Callisto's offering is one of flowers; the brightest of the season left near the Node; a riot of color by the spring.