Clara stands before a small chest of drawers at her room in Caer Glaem. Should she do this? Of course she should. That's what it was there for. If she wasn't going to use it now then when? "Go on then, Oswald." She muttered to herself. Looking around, as though expecting to find a spying pair of eyes, she opened the chest and pulled out a small hammered gold bowl. She'd received it long ago but never used it. It'd never seemed right. She'd seen the past and the future but as a participant. Being just an observer felt... wrong.
But there was war coming and going in blind would just be bloody ridiculous. She inhales and opens her window, placing the bowl on the sill to fill with the rain that fell from the skies. It would turn to snow later and melt as the sun rose. "Close enough to rain water, I suppose." Then she closed the window and sat down on her bed, making sure to adjust her position to see the bowl through the window. She would wake up as dawn came, as the fairies instructed, and see what visions it brought her.
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Action.
But there was war coming and going in blind would just be bloody ridiculous. She inhales and opens her window, placing the bowl on the sill to fill with the rain that fell from the skies. It would turn to snow later and melt as the sun rose. "Close enough to rain water, I suppose." Then she closed the window and sat down on her bed, making sure to adjust her position to see the bowl through the window. She would wake up as dawn came, as the fairies instructed, and see what visions it brought her.