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Shadows swept through the room as the sun slowly moved closer to the horizon. The yawns escaping their mouths every so often before Clara's stomach told them all it was time to conclude for the evening. Alora continued on, planning the layout of furniture, moving items around, and playing with different paints and pigments Ziva had given her. The smell of potatoes and meat pie crept into her room, her stomach screaming at her to take a break for the rest of the evening.

Dinner tasted as good as it smelled. The table was near silent as the little family ate, only the sounds of cutlery on the porcelain plates could be heard as they each inhaled their meals. Alora suppressed a moan as she finished off her plate. The warm food satisfying her in a way she didn't know was possible. After clearing the table with Clara's help, Alora headed back to her room and finished unpacking the rest of the things she could find places for without the needed furnishings she had already designed.

By the time she had finished, the sun had set and the shadows crept in and sole away the rest of the light in her room. She found the dark peaceful, maybe at times a bit unsettling, but most of the time it brought her to a place of serenity. She had always seemed to think more clearly when the light didn't dance in her face, distracting and annoying.

As Alora placed the last screw in the armoire, she heard her door creak open. Holding up a finger, signaling she would need just a minute, she finished off the screw and stood back to admire her work. As it turned out, after two years of watching a wood worker, she picked up on a few things. Well – maybe more than a few.

Her furniture set was finally complete. The queen bed was set up in the middle of the room, a small nightstand to one side. Then there was the large writing desk that she even admitted was a bit too large for the space, but she couldn't help it. So, to utilize the size she made a portion of it into a dresser. Finally, there was the armoire. While she loved the desk, she was most proud of the armoire. She had meticulously hand carved the large wooden doors, sculpting a large cliff edge with countless evergreens and a thin waterfall running down where the two doors met. The mix of different woods and bits of stone completed the look. She had worried it would end up looking too much like patchwork, but as she completed each item, they all became cohesive and began to resemble the beautiful landscape they now got to call home.

"Wow Alora, these have all really turned out quite amazing," Clara said, staring in awe at the large armoire. Alora motioned her in as she sanded off a small imperfection on the nightstand before stepping back to admire her work.

"Honestly, it turned out better than I expected." She admitted, standing back by Clara.

"Well, turns out you aren't just good at crafting words into art." Clara flashed Alora a cheeky grin before moving on. "So, now that you are finally all set up, decorated, and unpacked," She listed off, "What are you thinking you want to do around here?" She asked.

The question Alora had been avoiding for the past week and a half. She knew that if any of them were going to ask it would be Clara. She half expected that when she held up her finger and fiddled with that last screw she would give up on this attempt and leave her be.

"I wish I knew," Alora slumped, so badly wanting to say she would write. Her spark, the dreams of other words and their stories, her words, had seemed to have disappeared so entirely that it was like they were never there to begin with.

"You could always teach classes with me, you know?" Clara offered. Alora could fully see the idea in her mind before she said it.

"I cannot teach writing if I can hardly get five words out before giving up. I am many things, but I am not a poser." Alora's tone came off harsher than she had intended, quickly regretting it when she saw the deflated look on Clara's face.

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