Worn soles tap polished wood; a loud sound breaking up a quiet night.
Tome held forever on Robin's person, resting against her chest, she traverses the hall. Knowledge within books is power, quite literally. An endless fascination. Most people would prefer they contain entertainment.
She has trouble relating to most, but she tries. Time spent together, listening to their woes, doing what they request, counting up their little quirks. Questions to uncover them; perhaps discover some of herself in process. Arranging everything she finds in ways to safeguard both their lives and their secrets. Maybe she's always meant to be a little alone and on the outside, too smart and too smartass for her own good. Constant attempts to remain unpredictable, keeping others guessing and on their guard, rather than letting hers down.
Here in the Barracks, auric energy is strong. Not one person in the army hasn't visited at some point, trained at some point, held a conversation with themselves or another at some point. Paneled walls have witnessed realer stories than any work of fiction. Her palm lays flat upon their surface in appreciation, since no other person announces themself. Senses awash with presence prior, the same collective buzz as when all is in resonance on the field. Everyone at their best, in their best place to thrive, fighting as hard as they can according to plan.
It courses across skin, tingles arm hair to standing, flutters across braids of cloak accouterments, and nestles like a dachshund burrowing under warm blankets into her heart. She wonders how much sense of self she even has beyond her use to anyone else. Most days she feels her only motivation in the world might be to disperse her own essence and make room for the goals of another.
She works towards peace because someone who'd done her a kindness deserves to be repaid. And great purpose deserves to come into great fruition. Did she once have dreams? Ambitions of her own? Challenges to herself rather than waiting for ones which happen to be set before her? Silly little fantasies which would distract her into worlds created all of personal cognition?
She can't remember.
Robin walks along paths and through corridors when she feels down; carries herself along, lost in thought, just waiting to be pulled from the depths of how they echo in futile contemplations when she is alone. She finds herself at the core of the army, the center of socialization, just waiting to be disturbed by someone.
Anyone.
Who is meant to advise the adviser when they feel lost? All she can do is chuckle to herself at the conundrum.
"Heh, somehow I always end up here whenever I'm feeling lonely…"