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Dorothy Trimble
She wasn't like the others. It was hard to say what exactly, but there was something different about her. Avera watched through the raindrops on the window pane as she dismounted, Benjamin assisting her down from the dapple horse she rode. Water poured off of the cloak and her feet sank down as she planted them firmly on the muddied ground. The woman's dark, mud spattered cloak and boots were a stark contrast to Benjamin's elaborate rainy day ensemble of a clean, bright royal blue. The entirety of the afternoon had been masked by heavy rains which now blew upon Dorothy and Benjamin as he grabbed at the reigns, seeking to stable the horse.
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