Her nerves had been on edge. Three times the ground had trembled beneath her feet and each time triggered a wave of hysteria, memories of the Sept rushing back to her sharply and suddenly. Green appeared within her peripheral, the work of her imagination, but real for a moment in her terror. She braced herself, collapsing to the floor as she curled into a fetal position, listening as objects fell from the shelves and her furniture rattled around her.

Loras, stay with me. Her voice echoing in her head. We all need to leave, now! Gods, why hadn't they listened to her? Her skin tingled, as though anticipating a surge of Wildfire to rush from the floor, exploding around her.

But the shaking would always stop and she was returned to her home and this strange world she occupied. She would get back to her feet, but spend the rest of the day paranoid and afraid.

It had been three days since the last tremor and everything felt too quiet. She tried to go about her chores, as calmly as she could, but every little sound had her jumping and trembling. When she heard Jon's approach, she flinched visibly, nearly dropping the wool from her lap.

She had been at work on her new spinning wheel, slowly learning how to make it work and how to turn the wool to yarn.

Her eyes met Jon's with a measure of relief and embarrassment. "Jon!" She got to her feet, setting her work to the side.