The young hunter folded the paper over its neat valleys for the last time before letting it rest in the pocket of her white cloak, matching to the colour of her hair, a silent sigh released from her chest as she forged forward, moving past others with a haste that would befit the situation. In her hand, the paper request would fold and crinkle, the words now a jumble of objectives that she stapled into her prior.
It was of common occurrence to find Snowflake with her particularly messy silver mop in the most random of times, and that wasn’t entirely made up of her travel reasons or a product of her little whimsies, either and if she were to stumble into someone familiar, then she wouldn’t even be surprised because she had been blessed with so many fateful encounters, even repeated ones her entire life.