hello, gorgeous.

When did this all happen? How does one lose a year of their life? How does one lose two? She was grateful for him, for Gareth. She was grateful for the company, and the way he’d filled the world with beautiful words and certainty. Moments fleeted past, where something felt truer than others. Where it felt firm, tangible—less a dream, more what one could call a memory.

She remembered a mother’s warmth, but the face was uncertain, so unclear.

She remembered warm sand, and sunshine. She remembered intangible things like feelings—freedom, laughter, joy, innocent fright. She remembered bolstered bravado, and flimsy arches of risk and adventure.

But what? With who?

She knew she disliked this feeling of brooding, she disliked being preoccupied with ruminating over the chaos. There was a feeling in her chest that demanding to live, to thrive, and to forget what she’d forgotten.

She sat, at the borders of Vermeda Brook, not a thought past behind her eyes as she took in this place that was meant to be her salvation, or at least in part a role in it. He said they would not keep her from the world, but would keep her safe from the dangers within it. But, you know, thinking of those things lead to thinking about the dangers of what led her to this circumstance in the first place.

And in the warmth of the autumn afternoon sun, that simply wouldn’t do. She wanted happiness again—that is to say, if she ever knew it at all.

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the world around them was shifting in more ways than met the eye, but nymeria, for once, found solace in such change. she was surrounded by family, and friends, and confidants that she had grown to love -- and it was silently that she reveled in the small, warm sanctuary that she had built for herself, and for the others around her. today, however, started out like any other, with the coolness of the fall breeze tugging at her pelt and the afternoon sun warming down the length of her spine. the queen's steps were light as she rounded the edges of the pride's borders, whiskers twitching, as she looked to ensure that all was, and continued to be, well.

pushing through a small cluster of low-hanging branches, it was only then that nymeria's eyes fell upon a lone, pale shape amongst the stillness of the trees. it took her a moment to register the figure, but she was quick to note that it was a new member of the pride, and one that the valour had not gotten the chance to properly introduce herself to -- at least not yet. however, still, there was no denying that the other seemed somewhat focused, albeit that it was on something that the druid could not be quite sure of. "hello there," she started at first, pausing where she stood, and showing a hesitance to go further into the other's personal space. "sorry, i didn't mean to interrupt you," was all that she would add, gaze sweeping softly across the tree-line to settle upon the other woman, with her crown dipped and her expression soft all the while.

@Camelia

hello, gorgeous.

oh, a stammer. a shudder. she was pulled from her reverie by a kind voice--honey, milk. she turned to greet the woman, wide-eyed and unsure--another stranger? another she was meant to remember? she fought against a frown, correcting herself and her posture.

I mean—hello, a fumbling child — o, how she loathed herself for it. her mouth suddenly felt dry.

You weren’t. feeling the heat of shame rise to her cheeks, she dropped her eyes. they fixed their sight at her own toes. she flexed each knuckle, as though the distraction would be enough. Interrupting, I mean.

She suddenly felt like an intruder. Imposter. Stranger. The woman did nothing to inspire these doubts—wildly self imposed, she felt made of ruin. A blight. She gave the woman a sheepish smile, worried she was indeed something of a storm cloud on an otherwise pristine day:

Camelia, she then added—afterthought, assumed truth.

Gareth— saved? Recruited? adopted? What was the word? invited me. good enough.

@Nymeria

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