Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27181220-20150903010202/@comment-26807691-20150908223958

As seemed to be with the rest of the room, the bronze surface of the candalabra was caked in dust and ash. Mathilde wiped her hand down her skirt after touching it once, and then took off her vest and wrapped it in that. "Damn, it's cold," she commented dryly, lighting a match with her free hand and looking for the way out.

((Mathilde isn't doing a lot, and the only person she's interacted with is Merma out on the hill. Maybe she should run across someone else.))