Isla
Isla finds herself in Mourn quite a lot these days. She doesn't know why exactly, given that she's pretty sure that paying respects to her kind isn't really a thing any more. Perhaps it's just the peace and quiet she seeks. Regardless, here she is again today, placing a few carefully cut flowers into an empty vase. One for Wessex, one for Nate, one for Varus. There are others, of course - there are always others - but Isla wouldn't be able to carry all those flowers.
Letting out a long sigh - habit, by now, pretending to breathe even if she doesn't need it - the Remedy steps back and clasps her hands at her waist, her head bowing. She doesn't know why she prays - she knows there is no Voice to answer - but gods, wherever her friends and loved ones are now, she hopes it's somewhere peaceful.
Letting out a long sigh - habit, by now, pretending to breathe even if she doesn't need it - the Remedy steps back and clasps her hands at her waist, her head bowing. She doesn't know why she prays - she knows there is no Voice to answer - but gods, wherever her friends and loved ones are now, she hopes it's somewhere peaceful.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
