<The following is not an entry, but rather events that occurred surrounding an entry.>
~*~
Part of Lei wanted to tell Terath to go fuck himself after that conversation, but she knew he didn't deserve that. He had his opinions and she knew they were well-founded by his experiences with Al, but that didn't mean she liked or supported it. She wanted them to get along, so she could keep everyone; beyond anything else, she was afraid her wants would end up costing her people she cared for.
Still, her heart told her to stick by Al, to defend him. She admitted to herself that she didn't know him that well, but what she
did know -- from the nights talking to him, watching his reactions, listening to what little he'd offer in return -- leaving his side, metaphorically speaking, would likely cause him to shut down hard. She didn't want to do that to him. He didn't deserve it.
The argument with Terath had been grating. She felt he'd become jealous, and if she'd been trying to put up a wall between them before, she
definitely wanted to
now. She cared for him considerably, but she felt like he was pushing things too deep, all things considered. He said he was happy with Wren, but the context it was put in made her feel like he was choking down what feelings he had for
Lei. She didn't doubt his happiness with the one he'd chosen, but she likewise realized she was still causing problems for them, even if they were deeply hidden.
As she left Vulkswasten, heading south, she considered everything. She didn't think she could stay in the cavern, anymore. She appreciated everything Wren did for her (and Ter, too), but the way Ter looked at her,
spoke to her, made her want to crawl away and bolt the door behind her.
Though the plate had become easier to wear with how often she donned it, recently, it was still draining, particularly so with the shield at her back. She could feel her muscle slowly returning, but she knew it'd be a while until she was strong enough for it to feel like an extension of her person, again. At least that shield, heavy as it was, felt right.
She drowned herself in flin as she continued on, allowing her feet to carry her wherever she ended up. She traveled for a long while, long enough to start swaying on her feet from the liquor. She'd vowed to drop it, but after her talk with Al, the offered drink, she let that vow go. Eventually, she stopped.
Her body was sore from the trip, from carrying that plate, that shield, from the long walk that resulted in her pausing somewhere in the middle of the forest. She looked up, then behind her, hazily trying to determine where she'd ended up. She was fairly certain she'd kept mostly south, following the road for a while before she stepped into the forest, but darkness had fallen, and she could no longer determine where she was; her vision was too blurry to make out the stars well enough for a direction.
Grunting, she corked her bottle and slipped it into her satchel, carefully dropping it near a tree. She retrieved her journal, nestling the ink jar in the grass so she could scratch onto the page.
'
I'm not angry, anymore. I was, definitely, but after a walk, I feel better.
I had time to think, and I think it'd be best if I left the cavern, for Wren and Ter's sake.
I can't help but feeling like he's more attached that I thought previously. I let him go, but I don't think he has.
I don't want to stay there and cause more pressure. It'd be easier on everyone involved if I stepped way.
Still, I don't want to leave Vulks. I don't want to go back to Ebonheart.
Not yet.
I sent a letter to my father. I don't know when he'll see it, but I hope it's soon.
I miss him. I haven't seen him in years.
I hope he's doing well, and that he isn't suffering too much not knowing where I am or how I've been fairing.
I'm considering asking him to help me get a place of my own, here, but I'm reluctant. I've already borrowed so much from Wren.
I suppose getting such things from my father, though, would at least feel better.
Maybe I could repay Wren that way, too.'
She paused, reading over those words, then let her head fall back against the tree. It'd begun to rain, but the canopy above her shielded her from most of it. Still, she needed to finish up so she could keep her journal from getting wet.
'
I'm glad Al and I had that talk.
I still don't really know where we stand, but I know we're okay, and that's all I could ask for.
It was draining to'
A noise nearby caused her to freeze, gaze lifting from her book. Carefully, she looked in that direction, peering into the darkness, though found she was unable to see anything. Lips pursing gently, she cautiously returned to her writing.
'
feel like he'd avoid me forever'
She could feel eyes on her, causing her jaw to grit, and she stared ahead, listening. There was a soft rustle.
Hastily, though still cautious, she shoved her book back into her satchel, staring into the space she'd heard the noises. She didn't yet stand, but her hands moved, one to her shield and the other to her sword. Silence followed beyond the sound of the rain on the environment, but she didn't trust it. Carefully, she pushed to her feet, turning toward the brush. Just as she began to draw her weapons, the beast pounced.
The wind was knocked from her lungs as she landed, pinned by the senche. It snapped toward her face, and it was by sheer luck that she managed to react quick enough; her plated forearm was shoved between its jaws, though its teeth bit harshly into the metal. With a thrash, those teeth slipped into the cracks, burying deep in flesh. She bit back a scream, focusing instead on how she could protect herself. Her shield was still on her back, sword in its sheath, but she still had that silver dagger; it wouldn't kill the beast, but it was better than nothing at all.
With her free arm, she drew it quickly, stabbing into the senche's side repeatedly as it tore up her arm. Soon enough, it let go, moving aside so it could ready for another pounce; the moment it did, she drew her shield from her back, mounting it on her wounded arm with a tight cringe, just before it leaped at her, again. It clawed and bit at the metal, and she waited for her chance. Its claws gripped over the upper edge of the shield with the intent of drawing it back and she buried the dagger deeply into its forearm, yanking and twisting; it caused it to draw back, but it likewise managed to catch that arm, too, between its jaws, and she lost her weapon. She let it pull her arm back, using the small bit of momentum to slam her shield into the side of the beast's face; the metal hit hard enough to cause it to release her, and to make it stagger backward, dazed.
Bleeding, she took the chance to stand, to draw her sword, to fall into a defensive stance. The next time it leaped, she ran her sword through its chest as she fell with it. The senche struggled and clawed for a few moments longer, then fell still.
She was exhausted, and she felt lightheaded from the blood loss. The beast was heavy on her, too heavy to move it in that state. She shifted around the best she could to pull her blood-soaked gauntlets free, using nearly the last of her energy to sear the wounds on both arms shut before falling still. She knew it was dangerous to sleep like that, knew the body could very well draw scavengers and the like to her, but she had little choice. Reluctantly, she accepted her fate for the night.
NovotheMay 15, 2017