#baronyofthesilverwolf

She can lift it easily. Through the towel, the glamour is muted, muffled.

An idea hits her, and she goes out to find.. a bush! Okay. Touch the vase to the Bush, see what happens. If it's a trap, we lose a bush to dark magic. If it's not a trap. I feel silly. Will it work? I..have no idea

Towels for her hands, but direct contact to the bush!

The vase gets closer... and closer... until finally it makes contact and!

...nothing happens! The trolless focuses and concentrates - yes, there is something there - it feels... similar to how it did before it broke. But whatever is in...on... or within the vase, it doesn't seem like something that will shake loose. It doesn't feel especially dark.... or light. Maybe if she touched it? Or does the vase need to break to let it out? Is it a trap? Or is it trapped?

A sigh "Crap. " Therre's only one way to protect others from this, and that's to risk her herself. She touches it

For a moment, she thinks that there is nothing. But as she kens, and focuses, and seeks... she finds - warmth? It's not as clear as it was when the vase had broken and released the glamour earlier, but she can pick up the same overtones. A feeling of warmth - a loving touch on her arm. The feeling of smooth clay melding under her fingers as the vase takes form - and laughter as it comes out crooked. An unchained melody, of sorts? Or maybe that's a lost reference. It's vague, and soon fades, out of reach, within the folds and whorls of the ceramic. The flowers seem to be just that, adornment in the vessel.

I don't understand She frowns confused

She takes a breath and tries something taking a gamble, she begins to say "Some would call you vase (She says as if it rhymes with face), some would call you vase (as if rhyming with laws), But its the story you have to tell, that really gives me pause. I'm listening to what you have to say, if say a thing you would. I have a couple of questions for you. Let that be understood" and hoping even a bad poem counts as effort, she releases some of her own glamour

Silence, and then a faint whisper she can just barely catch - Mortal molded and of dragon's hoard, I am not flashy but should not be ignored. A clever girl tries for whispers three, but that locked within, belongs to me... not he... nor thee. Can a vase sound SMUG?

And the cantrip fizzes away.

"Rude" She observes feeling a bit drained "Locked within? Literally?"

She takes the flowers out carefully, and shakes the vase upside down, shake shake shake...and yes, listens for a rattle

Empty! That nebulous hint of glamour seems to be set upon the vase itself, not anything within.

"Oh drat" she puts the flowers back in, and rises to return this before anyone notices

Or at least she hopes

As she kens and kens again, it seems like she might be getting tired - or getting a headache from trying to focus too much. Like staring at the sun and then seeing bright spots in your vision afterwards, now other specs of glamour seem to catch her attention as she rises to walk away. There, on a painting. And further down, that sculpture. That's perhaps not unusual though, most of the artwork that the manor showcases are known to be dreamer-inspired as befits a freehold.

She definitely feels low on glamour, that cantrip, she's never tried to affect a vase before. She puts it up carefuly where it was

And Briar's voice bellows from a few halls away. "HEY BLOCKHEAD! If you wanted to see shomething cool, you better move your butt!" The girl stomps about in search of Gwen - she had mentioned earlier something about a cantrip, and the young cap was eager to show off that she knew something that Gwen did not.

"Sure sure.." She moves to follow

And the vase - and it's secrets - are left behind for another day.

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