Oh, you say you have to fall apart to really be someone
For once, the sky was overcast and the sun had taken a day off to remain in its blankets. A mist hung in the air, not quite rain and so fine that only the furthest hills and valleys were wrapped in the haze. The cool damp caused old injuries to ache and old fae muttered about their joints in their treehouse homes, while stoking the fires in cobblestone hearths and predicting whether or not Longheat would be late this year.
Having been told to reflect more on the events in her life, Maea should probably have stayed indoors too, on a day like this. But the Guardian's old office still frightened her with its cozy comforts, and had a way of numbing her thoughts into uselessness. She found that it took time to get used to being stationary again, so while she did bring the journal her therapist had gifted her, the Ancient sought refuge in the wild woodland instead. Roaming aimlessly, the wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for. A place to sit? A view interesting enough to write about?
Perhaps, she thought wryly to herself, as the pools of Vi's eyes came into view, she was simply looking for a reason to go back home. In a puddle small enough to step over, the gray clouds reflected an aerial view of some nameless village, equally wrapped in blankets of fog; almost like the forest was longing for a warm hearth and a cup of tea, too.
Having been told to reflect more on the events in her life, Maea should probably have stayed indoors too, on a day like this. But the Guardian's old office still frightened her with its cozy comforts, and had a way of numbing her thoughts into uselessness. She found that it took time to get used to being stationary again, so while she did bring the journal her therapist had gifted her, the Ancient sought refuge in the wild woodland instead. Roaming aimlessly, the wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for. A place to sit? A view interesting enough to write about?
Perhaps, she thought wryly to herself, as the pools of Vi's eyes came into view, she was simply looking for a reason to go back home. In a puddle small enough to step over, the gray clouds reflected an aerial view of some nameless village, equally wrapped in blankets of fog; almost like the forest was longing for a warm hearth and a cup of tea, too.
