I -- [ hmm. sansa presses her lips together and wonders (briefly) whether it is a foolish request in the face of war. and yet she pursues it for an honourable cause. she wishes to gather certain tales for certain purposes. ] I want to hear stories. Stories of grand adventures undertaken by brave Seelie heroes. I cannot be the only one who's struck by such curiousity. Please -- share what you've learned.

[ and for every legend well-told and well-lauded she will make a point to include it within a very...pointed celebration in treun. perhaps encouraging even the shardless to think upon the bright bold tales of the seelie court will further endear that court to their hearts. it's a little like letting the right song be played at the right moment, falling upon the right ears. she wants to inspire treun -- or else certain parts of it -- to think more kindly on caer glaem. and she needs fellow shardbearers to help her. ] Tell me of the Seelie court's fabled champions and its well-mourned martyrs. What have you heard recounted by the hearth-side? Whispered on the road? Stories even the natives have told for centuries, mayhaps.

[ some hours later in the day an 'accidental' feed broadcasts. it consists of the locket falling open and catching sight of a pile of books. sounds of rustling. a cleared throat. and at long last a mild: ] Seven have mercy. What a troublesome thing you are and how -- [ sansa addresses the locket she had flipped open on purpose, pretending to be clumsy. this is a quiet way in which to invite conversation with those she might not otherwise feel brave enough to seek out -- unseelie friends, soon separated from her by a roiling oncoming war. ] -- How stupid of me.

[ a novice ruse! however, she has such an earnest and gentle face it might just be worth believing by most, if not by all. ]