Every night you see a girl by the window, up the castle, up the hill, writing. Who is she?

One day, lots of papers wisped around town out of her window. With curiosity, you take some.

The papers ranged in age from crisp to aged. As you read, mysteriously, she writes about reflection.

Then you see her retrieving papers and rushing around the town's roofs. She then knocks at your door. "The papers, please." She tips her hat.