{SEASONAL EVENT} Dirty Feathers, Better Weather

REXANNA Before Nathaniel vanished, he mentioned Rory. “Rory with the ponies?” She nodded, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know Rory that well, didn’t know that he had horses or ponies or animals. And she began to realize that she had really only spent time with the Outlanders – feeling comfort in their outcasted status that she didn’t feel the need to prove herself. But Amalia had been kind, standoffish at first. Rory, well… She had only seen him burnt and bloody, helped to press her hands against Jigano’s and stop the bleeding before Vervain could get there to help. But before her thoughts could get darker, Nate returned and she offered him a bright grin, at odds with the darkness eddying and swirling within her thoughts. It was then, when she realized perhaps she had embarrassed him somehow – perhaps by mentioning that she was fine remaining outside. But he had made it obvious to an extent. She shrugged her shoulders, a small elegant roll. “It’s fine, really.” She said, and she meant it. She understood. If it were the other way around, with how little the Naturals had to begin with and the Outlanders pouring in at every corner, she imagined she’d be the same. Regardless, he seemed to agree to continue to let her help – tossing a broom to her that she caught and she began to use against the rugs. First brushing them off and then hanging them off the porch to knock the rest of the dust out. One after one, she worked quietly until the inside was clean enough and the plants were set outside for some fresh air. She placed the broom on the ground and leaned against it, glancing around the place while Nate looked toward her with his hands on his hips. And when he spoke, she offered an almost tired chuckle. “Not bad at all.” She offered, beaming a smile toward him and straightening her posture to brush off the dust from her hands. “It hadn’t occurred to me at first. How much damage outside Longnight causes. Has it always been like that?” (Have you always had to deal with such terrible things from a child until now?) She asked (and wanted to ask), before she tilted her head – pieces of her hair falling out of her makeshift braid to dance along with the wind. I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love, we are good people and we've suffered enough.