an unending journey

this wood and string feel familiar. my mentor and colleagues are shocked at how i've managed to quickly go through their tasks with my bow.

i feel somewhat unnerved. the miqo'te and elezen fight over fighting for their home and places they don't belong in, and my hands burn from all the pulling.

it smells a bit like fire and ash. like dirt and soil crisply crusted under fingernails, and the smallest notes of glowing flowers growing from them.

today, i woke up in a bed of flowers-- pink, purple, blue. my whole body hurts, but at the same time, it feels like i was just being held warmly enough to not break.