Time had little meaning to her, and it didn't need to. Still, it was hard to say exactly how long she'd been out here on her own. She's comfortable in silence-- always has been. Probably always would be, if Meadow could venture that much. It was hard to know, then again, she's hard to know too. Settling down comfortably and reading her book by the brilliant light of the moon above. It's a pretty picture, and she's comfortable here. She's at home in this place, in this world-- even if it's a world that's not really made for her. That's okay. She'd hollowed out a comfortable place within it, at least for now.
Sota comes to join her after some time. Meadow considers his question for only a moment before nodding. There was a bit of concern that he'd send her back off to bed, but maybe not. She pushes the book out in front of her, inviting him to come take a look too. There were all sorts of plants and animals painted within it, each elegantly splashed across the page in different poses. Though they all seemed to be from this climate, Meadow didn't recognize most of them. Flora and fauna beyond her wildest dreams.
