[when she sits, the garden chair offers no groan of protest as it might from someone carelessly flinging themselves down. as much as she knows that Michiko is like her - someone who knows how to give the impression of grace, of politeness that invites an ease - it still has the wished for effect. it is easier to be herself around the other woman, instead of the unrelenting menace that the survivors no doubt see her as, or the stately queen she sees herself as being of this manor. she is more Mary, and all that might mean.

it is enough to have her smiling, at the least.]

That would say enough. Our game was under the clouds, and so they knew what shadows to cling to.

[but here, the moon shines bright, as if to discourage too much hiding.]

I am not upset, however. To always win would grow dull, and break their spirits. And they need to remember the thrill of the hunt lies in the uncertainty of it.