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((This is a backdated RP to when Verdain was still a foal!))

This was not Eliza's usual morning routine. Usually one of the servants crept in quietly with skirts rustling around her ankles and, with careful movements, set to opening the curtains. Usually sunlight came pouring down onto her face, usually there was the smell of fresh bread baking in the kitchen below, the soft murmur of people at work. Usually the girls were already awake, running back and forth, their fine shoes hammering against the wood until Abbey's voice came, sharp, to tell them it was unlady like.

Instead, today, it was still dark in her room, the curtains pulled tight, and she woke to the feel of fingers over her mouth, dark form leaning in over her. The end of a long braid tickled against her shoulder, and when she opened her eyes it would be to find dark-clad Abbey leaning over her with a finger against her mouth and expression very serious.

"We need to steal some milk." Abbey's voice came out low, hushed, as she straightened and folded hands over her stomach. Blue eyes flashed up and around the room, and in the dark her skin was so pale it all but glowed. She was well-dressed, even at this hour, and after a moment she looked back down at Eliza.

"Dress and I'll show you. Not a peep. Quiet shoes, and I wouldn't wear anything fashionable." With that, she eased away from the girl to peer out the doorway into the hall. They didn't have much time before the house was fully awake.

"Goat if we can, cow if we cannot." Abbey, sadly, suspected the second more likely than the first. She shot Eliza a look and for just a moment she looked horrified. That was a dress that should be thrown away, certainly, and maybe later she'd make sure one of the maids lost it during laundry. It did, however, serve its purpose, so she closed her mouth and led the way out into the hall.

"If you know where any of your sisters' baby things might be, that could help as well."

Abbey turned at that, finally, walking backwards three steps so she could look Eliza over again -- and nodded shortly, primly, fingers going to her waist and her buttons. It was a nervous fidget, small and mostly hidden, but perhaps the girl would recognize it.

"The kitchens, back entrance, and for heaven's sake don't let anyone see you." She paused licked her lips, and then went to go, moving more quickly without the girl in toe. Boots clicking faintly against the floors. "Bottles are the most important bit."

The deer, most likely, would not be what she expected; a rickety fawn on long legs, Abbey settled the freshly-hatched Verdain by kitchen doors, settled in the dirt, before slipping in, herself.

She'd kept the totem at the foot of her bed. Someday, perhaps, Eliza would hear the story of getting those clattering hooves, the shaky feet, the wretched beast, through the halls of the house and quickly out into the gardens, while the servants and their master slept. Today, however, Abbey was prim-mouthed in the way that said 'we are not talking about this now', an expression Eliza was likely disappointingly familiar with. No.

"...bottles. You did get bottles?" It was said with a flash of a look over the dresses, the sheets, with a shake of her head. She hadn't been terribly specific, no, but she had said that one word, at the very least, and clearly.