Stormy had never been a party person. Would probably never be one at this rate. She had gotten better about being around people and functioning like an actual person over the past two turns, and had gone from standing to true candidacy. It was an accomplishment, however little. But it wasn't enough of a step to want to sink into the mass of human noise that was the Turnover feast.

Instead, she hit the beach. It was gray and heavily clouded above, and she wondered if she'd be graced with more rain. Western's tropical weather suited her sometimes, but only when it was throwing buckets of rain down on them, and even in the winter it could last for days. She brought her sketchbook with her, sank her toes into the sand with a sigh, and watched the waves curl and stretch before her.

She could hear someone's raucous laughter even from here, and the music carried in the air in a soft echo. It was almost like being at the party. Close enough?