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So she went through her skirts. Two of them were nice enough, and before she grew they had fallen to mid calf. So now they were knee length, and still fit at the waist. They were just...skirts. She generally preferred trousers because they were easier to move in. Wandering the stalls in skirts required staying conscious of them at all times, and she would have to try to move gracefully….
They were nicer for dancing in, though. But if she was going to be dancing, she wouldn’t be wearing her boots. Of course, if she’d been planning on wearing her boots, then she might have gotten away with that one pair of trousers that was almost long enough.
No matter which skirt she chose, she would want to wear that embroidered blue tunic, and she had popped a seam on it the last time she went to a gather. It hadn’t been her fault at all, but it was her own fault she hadn’t repaired it yet. She sighed, grabbed the tunic, skirts, and needle and thread, bringing them all to the common room. Her bronze flitts followed, and Dylandon settled cheerfully on the back of an empty chair, claiming it for her, but she shook her head, choosing a different one right next to the glows. He chirped, confused for a moment, before making the short hop to the chair she had chosen, while her other boy made a brief circuit of the room. Leulaw ultimately decided to land on the shelf nearest the glows, peering intently at Aranrod’s work as she focused on it.