miss seton.

Sweat and dirt still stained the red linen, a rust coloured spot of blood fused with the fabric near one of the bandana’s edges. She held it in her hand limply, a calloused thumb running over the last thing she carried of his.

     Papa…

Tears stung her eyes and she glanced back cautiously towards the area her new companion was sleeping. Sleep evaded her that night, but he didn’t have to know. They poured over moments later, blurring her vision and leaving streaks down her dirtied face.

     I miss you so much.

She breathed, low and meaningful, the mantra that haunted her mind. The forests of Elwynn still dwarfed her, sucked her right in and made her forget that she had ever seen civilization before. Westfall was so bold and visible, all you had was flat fields as far as the eye could see… and what lay behind the hills was too far to care about. But Elwynn swallowed you whole with tree trunks as wide as two grown men or more.

It made for a good sleep at night, even the early sunrise had to fight through the brush of the trees overhead to meet the ground. Soft grass underfoot made for a not too shabby makeshift mattress. And the hunting was certainly more fruitful.

But much like Westfall, safety was not something easily felt. She hardly knew him, she hardly knew the land. She’d struggled enough the previous night with only one attacker, and she’d lost her rifle weeks prior.

     I miss you so much. I miss you so much…

For the first time since his death she truly felt weakness. Loneliness. Perhaps that’s why her guard was so easily pulled down with a mere empty promise of at least enough gold to buy a warm meal she didn’t have to make herself. The boy seemed so sure of himself. But he was not the first to boast of big plans and better futures.

With care, she folded the red mask and tucked it into her pocket. An old backpack carried what little she still had, but this piece was too valuable to separate from herself. Oftentimes she’d finger for it throughout the day as if grabbing his hand again, a little girl on the shores of Westfall learning not to fear the sea. His eyes strengthened her in those days. His sure gaze, his eyes - crystalline like hers. She adored them. She would think sometimes of how they looked when she saw his body, she had half expected them to keep him alive as if they were magic. But his strength had fled and left them empty, and took hers with it.

Necklace

c.1900

INTERVIEW MY OC ABOUT QUESTIONS THAT HAVE NO EASY ANSWER.

Effortlessly, Alexa mirrored the woman across from her in posture alike, minus one leg folded over its pair at the thigh. A hand dropped to pat down the Admiral’s jacket that adorned her muscular form, complete with lush greens and vibrant golds to compliment her nation’s identity. Underneath, a white button down peaked out as she reached inwards to at last retrieve a polished silver case. While intently listening, fingers pried cold metal open to consider its contents.

“My trust? No, hardly.. Though you should reconsider what I said you earned.” Stated dryly, she paused only in her selection to glance upwards toward Mary. “Trust and respect should not be confused, you earned the latter by being willing to do the necessary to protect yourself and that which is of importance to you.”

“I am not a woman to trust blindly, I simply cannot, please do not take any offense for it is not you personally…” Alexa commented with a careful smile, only then to pull out a hand rolled vice. She placed it between lips, but did not yet fire the roll of tobacco to life as of yet.

“Do you care if I smoke?”

@setonlace |

❛ Hm. ❜ She remarked tightly at the woman’s words. She did not try and hide her distain for that particular vice, scrunching up her pointed nose as the cigarette was withdrawn. Her lifted upper-lip quickly fell back in it’s place and she took her time, carefully pulling a fan out from her purse in silence; trimmed with lace and painted with intricate light pink roses echoing off the gown she wore. ❛ It’s fine. I’m used to the smell. ❜

Giving the fan a gentle wave near her face to ward off any stray smoke that might come near her, Mary’s facial features softened a little in their expression. ❛ It’s tiring, isn’t it ? Trying to keep up personas, being in the throws of seriousness all the time, playing at who has power, who has trust, who has respect. You don’t trust me ? You don’t know me. I’d be a fool to be offended by that, and to be brisk - I don’t care. Is it even a topic of conversation worth exploring ? ❜ She said slowly, lazily, as if becoming a smidge bored.