Sitting on a bench in one of Beacon's gardens, Las Saltus ran a finger over the lines of Braille in her book. It was for study, and more so to keep her hands from being idle. Las was paying more attention to her surroundings. The smell of the flowers around had her focus. Trying to pick what they were, she was subconsciously responding to the sounds of people walking nearby. As her head turned towards each sound, the scent reaching her nose shifted slightly.
Roses? No, hydrangea perhaps.
Pausing as she flipped a page, her head returned to a neutral position.