Leyra, grand-daughter of what she thought was some big black beast, had actually turned out to be quite like him despite the fact she’d never met him. She carried herself with a confident stride, every step clearing the earth and so no dust lifted from the snow, no scraping of the earth, and her eyes were bright and full of life as she looked around. She knew coming here could be a bit of danger, but frankly, she found it to be the luck of the draw. She’d heard them whispering, speaking of how the common was a ground for, well, bartering for women was how she interpreted it.
She wanted to see, so here she was. Leyra, after her swim, was curious. She stopped in the snow, feeling the heat of the sun and not letting the cold bother her (get it) and she continued to survey everything around her, wanting to know what everything was. She couldn’t help but give a wide grin.
Let’s see what her luck was then.
It was never really all that good, but she was content to watch and see.
And may the odds be ever in her favour?