sad eyes on happy faces

Isla take your medicine She'd promised Sunjata she'd start leaving notes to say when she was going out. And so Isla has done just that, though gone hunting probably doesn't account for the entire day. And now that the sunset is bloodying the sea beyond the Boondocks, it's safe to say that the note isn't worth the paper it's been written on. Isla will apologise later, when she remembers. Unfortunately, for right now, there's very little on her mind that doesn't involve seaglass green eyes staring right through her, an old, wrinkled letter that still sits in a drawer back at the House of Midnight, and the sort of pain that feels like her insides have been scraped raw and hollow. Standing at the edge of the Boondocks, bare toes in the grass, Isla considers stepping into the water before reminding herself not to be so dramatic. Granted, the evidence of previous drama lays scattered all around; hunks of old driftwood scarred by a tiger's claws; broken bits of crates from old ships that she's thrown at the jagged rocks; the carcass of a deer. Huffing out a long, shaky breath, Isla rubs at eyes that are already red-rimmed, and reluctantly turns for home.