Maea
And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear
Like I'll disappear
It was a strange feeling, this having nowhere to return to. With the remnants of her camp cleaned up and her few remaining items wrapped up in a bundle, Maea slumped onto a bench where Melita had started a game of hide and seek a few days ago, and tried to summon the will to think. It was harder than it ought to be. For once her thoughts didn't race, only wriggled in sluggish circles, avoiding anything that resembled decision-making. Maybe she was simply tired. It had been a long day already, of sorting through and cleaning and burning the trash, and it wasn't over yet. She still needed to find a place to stay. An inn, maybe, though given the onrush of travelers to the woods lately any rooms would likely be taken. It was why she'd been camping in the first place; without a job to earn income, the funds were rapidly running out.
She hadn't planned for an extended stay out here. Hadn't meant to spend her days chasing miracles. Perhaps she ought to try and settle herself somewhere and plan for the eventuality that no roses would appear, that she couldn't return to Torchline after all, that this silvan realm would be the closest thing to that new start she'd hoped for... Maea just didn't want to. It smacked too closely of giving up. Not even half a season in and she was already on the verge of quitting? No way. Never!
But. There was no denying that she had reached an impasse here, and as she watched the fae and the outside visitors mill along the winding paths with weary eyes, she kept coming up empty on how to proceed. No plans were forming; even the options had run dry, unless she wanted to live out her days in a shift and go completely feral.
She hadn't planned for an extended stay out here. Hadn't meant to spend her days chasing miracles. Perhaps she ought to try and settle herself somewhere and plan for the eventuality that no roses would appear, that she couldn't return to Torchline after all, that this silvan realm would be the closest thing to that new start she'd hoped for... Maea just didn't want to. It smacked too closely of giving up. Not even half a season in and she was already on the verge of quitting? No way. Never!
But. There was no denying that she had reached an impasse here, and as she watched the fae and the outside visitors mill along the winding paths with weary eyes, she kept coming up empty on how to proceed. No plans were forming; even the options had run dry, unless she wanted to live out her days in a shift and go completely feral.
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Yet I go on
