Ciel had stolen into Gridania late the night before and spent much of the following morning and afternoon holed up in her inn room. The best of her knowledge told her the only locals who knew of her arrival were the innkeep, and possibly Miounne, or so that was as far as the visible denizens were concerned. She knew only too well that word of her return would spread quickly to the ears of those who cared to know, firstly to some of her older acquaintances at Stillglade Fane, courtesy of the Elementals. Still, after her five years of dreamless slumber, her time in the waking world had her wondering if their knowing should matter.
No singular twist of the sheets around her willowy frame seemed to be enough to stave off the sense of chill which nagged her, the same which she knew originated from within rather than without. Gridania often had this effect on her, like as not, but there was business due which she could not put off for much longer. They had been calling her home for long enough, and the message carried far to her on the whispers of wind sprites on the cliffs of La Noscea.
After a few false starts, the Elezen finally found enough reason to unravel herself from the relative comfort of the cocoon she had made from the bed covers. It was thirst and hunger, only, which caused her to move and dare to face a city which, she swore, looked upon her coolly and unforgivingly with its countless eyes. Even then, she found no need to rush for a means of sating those desires, and she took her time dressing and dragging her adamantoise shell comb through her pale hair.
When she finally felt ready, it had drawn on into late afternoon, six bells past the height of the sun's daily path. Dinner time, and her first meal of the day. Having felt no inclination to entertain the other patrons of Carline Canopy, Ciel left her harp with the rest of her belongings and found her way to an open table.
"Eel pie, and a glass of wine," she requested. Her typical order, but she paused at the last and nodded to the young man waiting her table. "On second thought, leave the bottle here." She hadn't been expecting company, but the compulsion to try and empty the entire bottle on her own was of very significant interest.
When her meal arrived, she ate quietly, with her head tilted downward, her eyes on her plate and refusing to make contact with anyone else's. Soon enough she had eaten her fill, or close to it, and the fact that her interest in the rest of her plate (and that she was already on her second glass of wine) had not gone unnoticed.
