(no subject)
Who: Rachel and Claire/anyone else at the Bennet house who wants to jump in.
What: arriving for help.
Where: the Bennet household.
She's been denying it as long as she can. Even when the symptoms became obvious, when there was no other answer. But now, as Rachel slowly makes her way down the dirt road toward the farm where Claire and her father live, there's no more room for denial.
The sun is high in the clear, cold sky, shining down on her as she shuffles along. Her shadow falls just a shade to the left of directly in front of her, cast crisp and dark on the ground below. And try as she might, she cannot make it do anything out of the ordinary.
God himself knows there have been enough times that Rachel wished her ability away, prayed for normalcy and an end to what she was capable of. Even now, there's a very faint and distant sense of relief in this, in it being gone. Mostly, though, the fact that her shadow merely skims the ground like everyone else's just mocks her. It's stripped away the last bit of denial she was clinging to.
Even in its loss, somehow her shadow still manages to ruin everything.
She's weary by the time she reaches their door, coughing into her sleeve, too proud to have asked for help getting there. The Bennets are putting themselves out enough as it is; Rachel's never been the sort of person to make herself a burden on anyone else, or to admit weakness. Going on the network to ask for help had been hard enough, she wasn't going to compound it by expecting anyone to actually go fetch her.
She takes a moment to compose herself, standing there all pale and wan, before she raises her hand and knocks on the door.
What: arriving for help.
Where: the Bennet household.
She's been denying it as long as she can. Even when the symptoms became obvious, when there was no other answer. But now, as Rachel slowly makes her way down the dirt road toward the farm where Claire and her father live, there's no more room for denial.
The sun is high in the clear, cold sky, shining down on her as she shuffles along. Her shadow falls just a shade to the left of directly in front of her, cast crisp and dark on the ground below. And try as she might, she cannot make it do anything out of the ordinary.
God himself knows there have been enough times that Rachel wished her ability away, prayed for normalcy and an end to what she was capable of. Even now, there's a very faint and distant sense of relief in this, in it being gone. Mostly, though, the fact that her shadow merely skims the ground like everyone else's just mocks her. It's stripped away the last bit of denial she was clinging to.
Even in its loss, somehow her shadow still manages to ruin everything.
She's weary by the time she reaches their door, coughing into her sleeve, too proud to have asked for help getting there. The Bennets are putting themselves out enough as it is; Rachel's never been the sort of person to make herself a burden on anyone else, or to admit weakness. Going on the network to ask for help had been hard enough, she wasn't going to compound it by expecting anyone to actually go fetch her.
She takes a moment to compose herself, standing there all pale and wan, before she raises her hand and knocks on the door.