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29th Throw - [voice]
Oct. 13th, 2014 11:31 pm[The morning of the fourteenth -- after getting her fishing parties squared away -- Clove goes a decent way from the water to speak to the journal.]
Anyone seen Cato around?
We were supposed to meet up a couple different places after we'd gotten settled, but I haven't seen him around.
[Right. Supposed to be... New Feathers.]
Cato's... the guy I came with. Big, blond, pretty nasty scars on his face.
My husband.
Anyone sees him, tell him to get his ass home, okay? He's supposed to be cooking tonight.
[The rest of the day, she can be found around the small village. Catching fish, cleaning them, gutting them, preserving them. All around, doing what she can.
Around sundown, it'll set in. That Cato's not coming. That he's not here. That he hasn't contacted her in two weeks because... at some point... he stopped being able to. And she'd thought he just wanted his space. They'd both needed it.
When that becomes clear, she doesn't go home. And the forest around the lake is gone.
So she just sits by the river, late at night, fingering one of her knives. A poor lizard who wanders by? Gets the knife flicked at it. And the little kill gives her no satisfaction.]
Anyone seen Cato around?
We were supposed to meet up a couple different places after we'd gotten settled, but I haven't seen him around.
[Right. Supposed to be... New Feathers.]
Cato's... the guy I came with. Big, blond, pretty nasty scars on his face.
My husband.
Anyone sees him, tell him to get his ass home, okay? He's supposed to be cooking tonight.
[The rest of the day, she can be found around the small village. Catching fish, cleaning them, gutting them, preserving them. All around, doing what she can.
Around sundown, it'll set in. That Cato's not coming. That he's not here. That he hasn't contacted her in two weeks because... at some point... he stopped being able to. And she'd thought he just wanted his space. They'd both needed it.
When that becomes clear, she doesn't go home. And the forest around the lake is gone.
So she just sits by the river, late at night, fingering one of her knives. A poor lizard who wanders by? Gets the knife flicked at it. And the little kill gives her no satisfaction.]
