Lauralae does not spend too much time along the coast of Didymos; she has spent much of her time in the forests outside of the city, making a place for herself, trying to bury herself in that strange yet familiar world, but… She has to dip into the city itself to learn more, to adjust to what has been happening to her, to check with Daenerys about the nature of their eggs. She is also curious about the place she had died for a third time - the pit that had disappeared, even when Lauralae stands at the edge of the shore.

There is no sign of it, even when she sends her raven on trips, backwards and forwards, to investigate. There’s an urge to get into the water and sink down to where the skeleton is, but she does not dare sink so deep into the water, afraid of what might happen if she dared go, what might happen to the egg she keeps so close to herself at all times.

Eventually, she does little more than sit on the shoreline, dragging her bag onto her lap as she gazes out at the sea, her eyes narrowed, watching, as if the pit might just appear out of nowhere and suck her into the depths again.

Krimnos is not where Lauralae would like to be right now (too close to Alucard, to bruised feelings, to the shock of an egg sitting heavy on her shoulders) and so she clambers onto the nearest airship, not entirely concerned about where she goes. As long as her bag is close and no one tries to stop her she is content, slipping out into the world, curious as ever. She wants to return to her forest, but there is much for her to discover, and she has spent days there so far, waiting for any sign of her egg emerging, hatching, coming to life.

Anything to prove that what she said to Daenerys was correct - that she loved it, and it will grow to reflect that love.

Immediately, as she walks around Preciposte, it’s clear that she is not accustomed to such high altitudes. She breathes a little deeper, walks with a slight shake in her step, but ignores anyone that might look at her. Instead, she goes to the hot springs, her leather bag pressed against her side and her eyes narrowed, glancing here and there. When she gets into the springs she does not strip down entirely; instead, she wears what seems like bandages across her chest, tight and compact, and some cloth for underwear. She’s incredibly pale, her eyes the brightest part of her, and she settles, Rav’ahm resting quietly on her leather bag to keep guard.

She is silent, for a long time, burrowed in the water, quiet as she relaxes and allows herself to have that warmth, her thoughts drifting so much she might not notice someone coming to join her.

( Feel free to find Lauralae in Didymos / wandering around near the forests, or PM me for something personal! )