Aravis rose from her bed, her eyes bleary with sleep. She knew today was the day -- the day she'd finally succeed. There were times she'd thought of doing it, and times she'd considered the possibilities, but today, with the crisp, cool air inviting her outside, she knew it was time.

She dressed in a form-fitting ski outfit, plaiting her long, dark hair, and donned a pair of sunglasses for effect. Then, she knew, it was time. Time to get her skis.

She left her room, sauntering down the hall for the stairs. The skis were stored upstairs, she knew, and she needed to retrieve them.

Alas, it was never known whether Aravis retrieved her skis. She went upstairs to get them and...and never reappeared.

[establishy. my mom bitches about this moment in soap history ALLA TIME.]

Aravis was having a lazy day today.

Well, lazier than usual, anyway. She'd taken care of Trenor and Ata earlier, and given how she so despised the colder weather, she'd hurried back to her room and bundled herself in a blanket to read. She'd idly considered writing to Cor and Hwin about coming for Christmas, but ultimately, her largest effort thus far was to make herself a cup of tea before returning to her book and blanket. It was that sort of afternoon.

[expecting one, but the door's open!]

Aravis supposed there were infinitely more interesting things she could be doing with her evening, certainly. However, today she had made a purchase -- one that was two years in the making, in fact, though it did seem absurd to purchase such a thing when she'd be going home in less than a year.

In any instance, her new toy was a source of frustration, as Aravis was painstakingly reading through the directions, only to toss them aside every few minutes, attempt to make the phone work again, become frustrated and revert back to attempting to read the instructions once again.

Her door, however, was open, so as to allow passers-by to hear her charming swearing at the tiny device. Aravis was a lady. Really.

Aravis hadn't been able to resist showing off Trenor a bit, and despite any and all quarreling earlier, she'd tacked up Trenor for two riders. (It was in the nature of her relationship with Cor, whatever it may be, that they ignore earlier conflicts when it suited them, anyway.)

She'd taken them for a ride along the edge of the beach until it got too cold for her tastes, though she...didn't hate sharing the saddle with him. For warmth's sake. Finally, Aravis led Trenor up to the preserve, because she knew it was time. Not because she particularly wanted to.

"This is where you came, isn't it?" she asked over her shoulder.

[for...myself, yes.]

Aravis was fairly certain that of all the bad habits she could have taken up, smoking was one of the worst.

However. The boy from yesterday had intrigued her, and though she hadn't enjoyed the cigarette, she'd gotten herself a pack today in addition to some loose tobacco and the far-more-familiar hookah, though it looked different from what she'd seen in her father's and Lasaraleen's palaces.

For now, she was experimenting with the different flavors of tobacco she'd bought, her window open so the smoke could filter out the room.

[bored. door cracked and post open!]

It was so absurdly typical that just as Aravis was getting used to being back in her own body, something should happen to alter that.

She was just feeding Ata, as any good pet owner would, when very suddenly the world grew around her and her gown enveloped her.

"Damn it," she attempted to say.

Except she was a cat. So she basically said, "Mrowl."

Not exactly the same.

['stablishy unless you're one of the ones with modding rights, omg!]

Aravis arrived back at her room from grooming Trenor with a package waiting for her.

Inside was revealed several gently-wrapped gowns, and a note from Cor, detailing that he would be visiting her for the first weekend in her October, and that these were the gowns she had requested for the cooling weather. I don't understand why the ones you have aren't good enough, he of course had to write, but Father insisted that if I write you to let you know I'll be visiting, the note should be included with those silly dresses. I'm sure you'll look lovely in them, silly as they are, and can't wait to visit and see the magical lights and waters again.

The note had more to it, but the I'm sure you'll look lovely was where she lingered, absurd as it was. She was positive it was just a token compliment and had likely been dictated by Bree or the like, but it still gave her enough pause to sit and smile at the note for a bit.

Then, of course, she set to work trying on the warmer gowns. And if Aravis idly pressed some tissue or small bits of fabric into the bust, just to see how it might look, she'd deny 'til she was blue in the face.

[door cracked (omg changing girl, people), post open!]

Rain still being the luxury it was to Aravis, it was all she could do to not go outside and run around in it. She contented herself with lighting a few candles in lieu of turning on the electric overhead light, and opening the window.

However, Ata had not been so restrained when she had taken him out. Which was why she had spent the last hour painstakingly washing the mud from him and toweling him off. The room no longer smelled of wet dog, and his coat was beginning to gleam.

The door was open, either way.

[open door, open post omggggg]

Aravis was almost grateful for the opportunity to unpack her own things, when she arrived back in Fandom. She had said an emotional (well, she'd argue otherwise, but that was Aravis) goodbye to Hwin, Bree, Corin and the courtiers she knew well. She'd hugged Cor without protest, and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek on a last minute impulse.

That wouldn't be dwelled upon, she'd already decided.

Now, she was carefully pulling things from her bags, gently hanging her new gowns in the closet. She still wasn't entirely certain where she'd wear them all, considering Fandom's nature, but they were lovely nonetheless and she'd prefer they not be wrinkled.

[Open door and post!!!! I missed her.]

Aravis was reassured, with Ben's visit, that somehow time was passing in Fandom as it was here with her in Archenland. She'd feared that with her visit home, she'd return to school to find a whole new set of people, her friends having graduated. However, Aslan's influence had kept time fluid between the two worlds, and the concerns that had been in the forefront of her mind for much of the first half of summer were now faded.

Which was just as well, as she had far more pressing things on her mind.

( 'Hurry, Hwin,' she murmured, dropping her head low to the Mare's. 'They're gaining.' )

[NFB, NFI, but OOC totes welcome if you should like.]

The day found Aravis inside for once, despite the relative temperance of the weather. She'd woken to find a letter addressed to her from Cor, filled with the usual talk of how much he hated court, and stories of their friends (Hwin sends her love, he wrote, and Bree his questions of the quality of the horses there. He seems to continue to hope that someday you will write back that there are Talking Horses there, but send your assurance that they're still not as grand as he.)

This time, however, the letter ended in a question -- or rather, an invitation to spend the summer in Archenland.

Aravis was inside today, her window open and her dog resting on her feet as she sat at her desk composing a reply. She hoped that by the time she reached the end of it, she'd know the answer, though she certainly had an idea for what she'd respond.

[door open and so is the post, if you'd like!]

When Aravis hurried in, her hair plaited neatly and swung over one shoulder, she hardly expected anything interesting. Her experience for the last nearly-two years taught her that after a horrific weekend like this past one, little would actually occur for a good long while.

Oh, foolish Aravis.

She busied herself caring for the horses before moving to the front of the shop and working on polishing a few of the tools.

[KING ME OMG. um, also open for all your Gig needs. ETA: GODDAMN YOU, SEMAGIC. Let's all pretend this is in the right place.]

Aravis had gone to bed a terminally-unimpressed seventeen year-old noblewoman.

When she awoke, she was a far-happier six year-old with an inability to correctly say 'Tarkheena.' Yes, still.

"Good morning, Ata!" she said brightly, nearly falling out of the bed in her effort to pet her dog. "You're my favorite dog, and that is why I let you sleep in my bed. Even though you are a dog and a boy. I forgive you."

She was a generous child.

"Wanna go see Trenor?"

Ata didn't really give an indication either way, but Aravis took it as such. "I need to get dresseded first." And thus began the treacherous task of toddling out of bed and attempting to dress herself. This could only end badly.

[mostly 'stablishy, but the door's knockable if you want. YAY WEETINY.]

Aravis was still quietly, carefully not thinking about the letter she'd addressed to Seely and mailed moments prior as she saddled Trenor, affixing her small satchel of food and gifts before easily swinging up into the saddle herself and adjusting her cloak. It had been the right thing to do, she was sure, and she was positive that if there was anything she'd have in abundance whilst on her break in Archenland, it would be time to reflect.

As she gently urged Trenor into a trot towards the woods, she wished she had thought to pack more chocolate just for herself, rather than to bring to the men of the court. At this rate she'd be through her stash by the time she was halfway through the woods.

[establishyyyyyyyyy.]

Fresh from Valdemar and having checked on Trenor, Aravis returned to her room and curled up on her bed with a book.

Seventeen, so far, did not feel terribly different from sixteen. And so far she wasn't any taller, which was a disappointment.

[door partly open, post open if you like.]

After her class, Aravis came back to her room to attempt to alleviate the headache that had been building for the better part of the weekend.

Having Lasaraleen around, as fun as she had been when they were younger, tended to have that effect.

Eventually she began to pen a letter to Cor, striking out several initial greetings of 'HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET HERE?' and 'WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?' and, most importantly, 'I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.'

[open post and open door. entertain me as I am home sickies from school. *pathetics*]

Lady Aravis gazed out her window, utterly forlorn as she surveyed the landscape before her. Certainly, she was to inherit riches beyond her wildest dreams, but what good was that when she was so miserable? There was only one thing that made her happy, one speck of joy in her life torn asunder.

She wiped a tear away with one silk-gloved hand, adjusting the tiny veil attached to her hat.

Yes, she needed a hat indoors.

[for her PARAMOUR]

When Aravis awoke in the early hours of Thursday morning, she stretched, flailing an arm over her face.

Her somewhat rough face.

"Nrfle?"

She blinked awake, and looked at her hand.

Her large, masculine hand.

"...again?"

[for le priestly one, at his leisure!]

Given that she was still a small cat thing, and given how irritated she was with the whole situation in every way, Aravis had taken to attempting to sleep away the days and thus deal less with how annoying it all was.

Plus, for some reason, she felt compelled to sleep about twenty hours a day anyway. She wasn't sure why.

As a result, she was curled up in Seely's bed -- under the blanket, with her head on the pillow, far more like a girl than a cat -- and out cold.

[for he whose alcove this be.]