Seol has the most unsettling sense that the woman by name of YunRa wanted to be found.
She stands by the cliff edge, a worn gray cloak covering the much better crushed silk dress that she wears. Most of her hair is up in the elaborate fashion of courtesans, yet a bunch of strands fall to her bosom, twisting in tantalizing curls. In no acceptable way does she look like a palace worker, retinue lady or not. Watching the woman, the sensual way her figure filled out her dress, Seol wonders why the guard believed her a traveler, for such a woman did not belong in roads and dust. When she pulls her mount to a stop, Yun Ra turns the most unsettling eyes upon her, hazel, neither green nor gray, a little glint that surely belonged in the scales of a serpent gliding under still water instead of the irises of a woman.
"You are fast," she smiles. Eyes barely lowering, toying the line of propriety. "Mama..."
"You do know who I am?" Seol's question is more of a monologue.
