the final petal wished upon

EVIE

She arrives in a flurry of stomping feet and tousled, windswept fiery hair. Blue eyes blaze like the hottest part of a flame, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. The Evergreen is more firestorm than woman as she approaches the Shrine at a purposeful march. She comes alone. Bearing nothing but her turbulent thoughts and one last, outlying bit of hope. This isn’t her first stop. No, she had retreated instead to her apothecary after the disastrous family dinner they’d had. Destroyed half the pots and plants, screaming and crying up a storm in the privacy of the only home she’d ever known. Then, stepping over the debris and destruction through her doorway, she’d come straight here.

”One more time!” she cries to the heavens as the light of the lantern finally washes upon her skin. Arms extend in a helpless, expectant gesture. ”One more damned try!” Or so it feels. Evie knows realistically that she will swallow her burning pride if her people need her to do this once more. But on a private, personal level? This may just be the breaking point for Evie Wordsworth’s shattered faith. ”Please, I’ve done nothing wrong! I didn’t choose to be born like this! I need answers!” It cracks and dissolves into a choked noise of grief that she can’t conceal, though it does nothing to dim the anger etching deep lines into her freckled face.

Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place else you'd rather be