Terra Ferguson
Losing does not make her sulk; it makes her quiet, and the quiet is worse. Terra Ferguson will concede an argument with a shrug, then spend the next hour sketching something dark and very pointed, black lace sleeves pushed back, the candle burned down to nothing. By the time she speaks again she has usually decided to forgive you, and to say so with her hands. Sorcery is what she calls her work, and she is not entirely joking about it; there are sigils in the margins of her drawings and a ritual attached to every mundane thing, including choosing what to watch. Devoted is the right word for her. Talking to Terra feels like being let into something private and slightly witchy.
