ღ;; "One... two... three..." The girls pale features are obscured by a veil of blonde, her head tilted downwards, concentrating on the remnants of a chalk drawn hopscotch game one of the neighborhood children must've drawn earlier that day. It's faded-- probably do to the constant flow of slush recently being inflicted on London, no matter to the girl though. She hops onto six with a titter, a short leg lifting only to pause halfway, wavering slightly because her balance is horrid, as she finally looks up-- and around, lilacs looking for the person whose giving off the 'you're being watched' vibes.