[oom] Coming Home
It's still dark when she wakes, but dawn is already lightning the sky. She dresses in long skirts, her favourite wool sweater, and her grey woollen shawl. And her field boots. The lakeside is rocky, and they're practical.
She makes her way down the stairs to the bar, not really surprised to see a others who are still awake from the previous evening's carousing. She doesn't pause to socialise. She makes her way out the back and down the path to the lakeside, her eyes on the tree line. She walks the shore, rubbing her arms against the chill, putting more and more distance between herself and the bar.
This time it is she who is searching for him in the mist.
He told her not to come after him when the moon was up. But it had set hours ago. The sun was almost over the ridge.
She makes her way down the stairs to the bar, not really surprised to see a others who are still awake from the previous evening's carousing. She doesn't pause to socialise. She makes her way out the back and down the path to the lakeside, her eyes on the tree line. She walks the shore, rubbing her arms against the chill, putting more and more distance between herself and the bar.
This time it is she who is searching for him in the mist.
He told her not to come after him when the moon was up. But it had set hours ago. The sun was almost over the ridge.