[ In a better moment, she would have smiled wryly and suggested 'common' might not be the word. In this moment, she takes the point of it and files away 'the Wintersmith' to contemplate upon. ]
That much I can manage...
[ She is bitter at her own weakness, but she lifts to her feet. It is well within her abilities to get a glass and pour water from a carafe. For a moment, she wonders who fetches it, but knows it must be the mist-like servants scattered about the temple. ]
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That much I can manage...
[ She is bitter at her own weakness, but she lifts to her feet. It is well within her abilities to get a glass and pour water from a carafe. For a moment, she wonders who fetches it, but knows it must be the mist-like servants scattered about the temple. ]