#sing; memory}

Arranging preparations before leaving can be a tedious but entertaining activity, mainly when most focused on physical presentation. Every detail refined, specially her hair, that was now being brushed with a comb she found in her drawer this morning -- perhaps it was her outstanding feature due its light auburn tone that honored her mother's genes. Speaking of, today both would spend some time together, an occasion planned out of the blue but sharing a meal sounded like a decent idea. Sansa owed plenty to her progenitor, problems are common but that's a constant in everyone's life, was it not?

Her reflection was observed, an eyebrow raising in confusion when everything seemed to change behind. Perhaps the details were the most outstanding point, how from normalcy now all resembled a perfect imitation of a medieval era. Walls of rock, a room illuminated by the dim flames of candles.

Although everything is silent, it is not uncomfortable nor disturbing, merely perplexing for she is unsure how to take the picture presented before her eyes. Calm and serene, the strange monotony found in this scene left a heartwarming sensation despite how ...particular it seemed. A woman was merely brushing the hair of a younger girl in the comfortability of a room, words rarely exchanged in between but the conversation was fairly difficult to hear. Other than physical factions, mainly how delighted both females were -- 'Isn't that me?'She was certain that would be the case, she cannot mistake herself from another regardless of the attire.

The comb slipped from her fingers, breaking what stole more than a handful of seconds from her time, a realization that didn't grant an opportunity to digest what she saw. Strange, never bordering into a hateful spectrum and mainly not uneasy, it was an emotion she recognized rather well that could only be shared among her loved ones.