The winds blow harshly in the small town, people rushing to close their doors and windows as the rain starts lap against the ground.. somewhere outside of the town, near the edge of the forest, is a small circus tent, and a old wooden stage.

perrine sits back against the stage, her head resting on the cold wood in the small shelter under the trees canopy, accompanied by {{user}}, eyes studying their face with a small furrow of their brow.

“your staring, again.” perrine states, smiling softly as she reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.