(no subject)
It was a long night. Yet another night of no sleep, of pacing around the tent, avoiding anyone and everyone who would acutally be of help. Halfway through, Val realized the worst thing she'd thought of in a very long time. It was all her fault. She'd been projecting at Peter, which made him more pissed off, which made everything go so much worse in the first place. That was the last straw. The absolute last straw. Taking a pen, she wrote two letters, just the two, and took off her one bit of jewlery, and wrapped it in a bit of green fabirc, attaching it to one of the letters. This can't go on. There was no way she would hurt more people like this. She was too dangerous to stay, and no one realized this. It would be better this way. And with that, she strode out of the tent, into the bar.