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So I packed my things and ran
Dec. 31st, 2017 03:23 pmShe can't stay at the farmhouse. That much is clear. Whatever... thing she has, she can't control it the way she did her own magic, and it's making all the new werewolves antsy. Ten seconds was all it took to figure that out, when she'd ventured into the barn earlier in the evening. Biffy and Lyall will have a hard enough time handling them without her making it harder. And that's all she can do, make it harder. The best thing she could do, really, is just get out of the way.
She feels like she's coming apart at the seams. She hates this. And she knows the Pack has more important things to do than try to make her feel better, as if it even matters. What would happen if she lost her temper, now? She'd just embarrass herself.
It's not full dark by the time she starts to shove things into her backpack. Everyone else is in the barn for the night, and she knows it's cowardly to sneak out like this, but it's not like she can discuss it with anyone. They'll just try to talk her out of it, or insist it's not a problem when she knows she is. So she packs, ignoring Poppy and Thistle's inquiring stares. Can't talk to them. Can't explain things.
Kitten's whistle is harder to ignore, and Daine swallows heavily. "I'm just... just going somewhere else for a bit. You don't have to come." The dragonet snorts, and when Daine opens her mouth to argue, Kitten yawns wide as well, deliberately exposing her rows of sharp, silver teeth. Daine huffs, then shakes her head. "There's no room in my pack. You'll have to ride in my coat." As deterrents go, it isn't much of one, and Kitten's only response is to start gathering Daine's cold weather things into a tidy pile.
It isn't until they've made it a quarter mile from the farmhouse that Daine realizes she has no idea where they're going. The list of people she wants to impose upon is blank; no one deserves to deal with her when she's like this. But it's too cold for dithering, and after a few faltering steps, she heads for Candlewood. Thomas is one of the two-leggers she's closest to. And if she's going to embarrass herself no matter who she speaks to, at least Thomas is too well-mannered to shame her for it.
That doesn't keep her from feeling rather wretched as she stands on the building's doorstep, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she buzzes his apartment.
She feels like she's coming apart at the seams. She hates this. And she knows the Pack has more important things to do than try to make her feel better, as if it even matters. What would happen if she lost her temper, now? She'd just embarrass herself.
It's not full dark by the time she starts to shove things into her backpack. Everyone else is in the barn for the night, and she knows it's cowardly to sneak out like this, but it's not like she can discuss it with anyone. They'll just try to talk her out of it, or insist it's not a problem when she knows she is. So she packs, ignoring Poppy and Thistle's inquiring stares. Can't talk to them. Can't explain things.
Kitten's whistle is harder to ignore, and Daine swallows heavily. "I'm just... just going somewhere else for a bit. You don't have to come." The dragonet snorts, and when Daine opens her mouth to argue, Kitten yawns wide as well, deliberately exposing her rows of sharp, silver teeth. Daine huffs, then shakes her head. "There's no room in my pack. You'll have to ride in my coat." As deterrents go, it isn't much of one, and Kitten's only response is to start gathering Daine's cold weather things into a tidy pile.
It isn't until they've made it a quarter mile from the farmhouse that Daine realizes she has no idea where they're going. The list of people she wants to impose upon is blank; no one deserves to deal with her when she's like this. But it's too cold for dithering, and after a few faltering steps, she heads for Candlewood. Thomas is one of the two-leggers she's closest to. And if she's going to embarrass herself no matter who she speaks to, at least Thomas is too well-mannered to shame her for it.
That doesn't keep her from feeling rather wretched as she stands on the building's doorstep, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she buzzes his apartment.
