b o u n d

But there is another step and another. Waves almost dare to lap at her shoes and the mist settles on her skin.

She has a to-do list, but she’s here --- with someone unknown in the middle of the forest she dares to call home. There are chores to be done, things to put away, a dinner to cook, and then enough time to do it all over again, simply a never ending cycle ( ongoing and ongoing, at its own dreadful pace ). 

In the closeness, it’s easy to seen how worn he is, how unkempt. So the basket is placed in the sand, not exactly an offering, but she can replace things, other things can be easily replaced. “The fall uphere are incredibly dangerous, and we don’t get many tourists in these parts.”

Honey and rosemary always lingering in the air.

The mountain and rivers do well to keep her and this haven covered, the cabin sits nestled in woods, hidden by the waterfall and the cave is obstructed by water and stalagmites. Great Mako pools and towering Materia crystals to call an eternal home -- but for now, and while she has the chance, she enjoys the moments that she has with this cabin, with her garden and the small kitchen that allows her to perform a different kind of chemistry with heat, yeast, fermentation and sugar.

Typically, with the wait for the bread to bake --- it is peaceful, a couple of the local children come and try to steal the few eggs she keeps ( to call the woman a witch within the same breath as she sent them on their way ), a book keeps her attention, however, today something is on edge, something is stirring, and it draws a long pace out of her, back and forth almost to run her rug well worn. 

Part of her wants to rip the pan from the stove and cover the flue to retreat to higher, safer and more hidden ground. That nagging feeling pulls at her again, over the scent of sugar, butter and flour. It could merely be the fray of time, pulling back at her ( JENOVA cells reacting and firing against her ) reminding her she’d be here until the end of days, to stay with a planet that cared very little for her. Yet, that had always been a jib, to alarm and aggravate, to provoke she reminds herself as a cast iron is pulled from her hearthstone and bread is covered to cool. The lid of her dutch oven put aside as the kitchen towel thrown to her counter. 

It was easier to bake a problem away, to reason something away -- but this was a feeling she couldn’t shake. So it’s easier to adorn the crust of freshly baked bread with rosemary and butter.

she still frequently returns to her cave to shield herself from those who have JENOVA cells and are unknown to her or she is unknown to them, mainly out of preservation ( but also out of fear of a unknown rebound, or other unintended consequences ). with this barrier of crystal she is able to project her voice through the cave if needed, but it also protects both parties from rebounding or reactive JENOVA cells.