[ abigail doesn't want to accept charity, she doesn't trust a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on anymore, not when her trust had found her... well. de-eared like a weasley. but her desperation to hide her scars supersedes her unwillingness to trust. hiding the scar on her neck feels more important than hiding her ear when it comes down to it. an ear can be explained away, a birth defect, an illness, an accident.
the rough scars on her throat, one on top of the other, are not so easily explained.
she reaches out carefully, cautious, and tugs at a bit of fabric in a jeweled green, pulling it free from the pile in the woman's arms. ]
Thank you.
[ immediately she sets to work looping in around her throat with practiced ease, fluffing it until the scar disappears. ]
no subject
the rough scars on her throat, one on top of the other, are not so easily explained.
she reaches out carefully, cautious, and tugs at a bit of fabric in a jeweled green, pulling it free from the pile in the woman's arms. ]
Thank you.
[ immediately she sets to work looping in around her throat with practiced ease, fluffing it until the scar disappears. ]
Was it obvious across the room?