a candle's fire

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — She had eventually said yes to Bastien, to being his girlfriend in a turn of events that she couldn’t quite understand. But she was happy for it, even if the pressure of everything around them was growing. It was frustrating, and while she had someone to confide to and understand that the Outlanders weren’t all bad people, there was still a part of her that needed to speak with the Naturals, mostly Rory who for the time being held all of her anger. She directed it to him, for causing such upset and reasonings to which she didn’t understand. Rexanna was a diplomatic person, and she would choose words over fighting any day. But it seemed they were beyond that. Huffing into the fog, she heard a small sound but didn’t turn to look. She didn’t think she was ready to see who might be looming around the bone bridge. At first she had thought it’d be Archebold, a man that had possibly the worst timing appearances of all history. But when she heard her name fall from a familiar tone, a familiar octave, she turned to look with a bit of surprise crossing her face as her sapphire gaze focused on Phoebe. “Phoebe!” She said as she recognized her friend, turning from the side of the bridge to look at her a bit closer. “I, uh, came here to scream out my frustrations to the void. You’re welcome to join me? You look like you could use it.” She offered, turning back to the side of the bone bridge and looking down. She had noticed the puffiness of Phoebes eyes yet again, and wondered what had happened this time. But she waited a few moments before she asked. “Is it Emmett? Again?” She questioned eventually, glancing toward Phoebe for a moment. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.