#clippher

                allie  can  feel  the  swamp  reach  for  her  from  inside  the  house,  it  tickles  her  skin  even  while  a  wall  separates  them,  and  she  giggles  from  where  she  is  curled  up  next  to  lani,  warm  and  dizzy  with  happiness.  it  does  not  occur  to  her,  just  yet,  that  the  touch  is  not  coming  from  inside,  but  from  out.  after  all,  it  comes  from  nearly  the  same  place  that  lani’s  hand  lays,  the  two  of  them  nestled  close  together,  a  bond  nearly  as  close  as  sisters,  tied  together  with  vines  and  stems,  even  if  their  roots  were  far  apart.

                once  she  had  heard  that  lani  had  never  had  a  proper  sleepover  before,  she  had  been  dizzyingly  quick  to  ask  her  over,  and  then  that  had  turned  into  lani  hosting  their  next.  and  it’s  so  lovely  here,  allie  feels  as  if  she’s  more  at  home  here  than  back  at  the  cottage.  she  thinks  it’s  the  lost  memories,  and  she  thinks  it’s  the  company  of  a  dear  friend.  but  it’s  awfully  dreary  to  think  of  any  of  that,  not  right  now,  so  instead,  she  lets  the  feeling  of  the  woods  grab  at  her  from  an  open  window,  letting  it  fill  her  veins  with  life.  and  it’s  dark  outside  …  but  allie  doesn’t  let  it  bother  her.  she  shifts  to  face  lani,  suddenly,  holding  her  hand  with  a  fervor  that  can  only  be  the  excitement  of  one  of  her  great  ideas.    “  we  should  go  outside!  right  now!  everything’s  always  so  lovely  at  night!  please,  come  with  me?  ”    cue  a  pouty  lip  and  big  doe  eyes,  before  joy  pokes  through  and  she  starts  to  laugh  again,  taking  lani’s  hand  and  leading  her  out  the  door.    “  come  on,  lani!  ”

@clippher​ sent: wrapped in a green paper box and tied off in a dried flax bow are several jars of various sizes sealed with wax and labeled with brown yarn. the largest of the jars contains a golden liquid which shimmers in the light, the label reads "to soothe" with instructions to add several drops to any drink to sooth and boost the healing process of her throat. within the second jar which comes with a dropper, is a bronze coloured oil with the label "to comfort" with instructions to apply to the tips of her fingers and massage into her throat or neck (or any other aches) to relieve tenderness. the last jar comes with a label that reads "to subdue" and is one of lani's handmade organic hair masks that smells of sweet citrus.

uma’s birthday: oct. 28th.

       lani, unlike some, knows to give her the present in discretion. there is no fanfare, no grand gesture. just practicality. a delivery that suits the pragmatic nature of the treasures housed within the paper box. uma is careful in her examination of each jar, treating them as fragile as the most precious glass, cradled in the curve of her palm to prevent the tips of her fingers from smudging them.

       drinking tea has become a chore in the weeks since the invasion. a daily routine, something to ground her in the cyclical nature of recovery & a surprising bonding experience to share with jane. but in this moment, an almost childish eagerness takes root in her chest, branches stretching outward & pulling a small smile from her lips. something thoughtful & healing - she shouldn’t be so surprised, yet the sense of curiosity in her lungs begs satisfaction. she wants to put all of these to use, & patience is a virtue she does not always possess.

@clippher​ said: ❛  do  you  wanna  get  out  of  here ?  ❜

{ x - accepting }

“Only if you want to,” he told her. He’d follow her lead. He was fine, but if she wasn’t he wasn’t going to force her to be somewhere she didn’t want to be. It was his way of answering in the affirmative, and letting the choice still lie with her.

@clippher​ said: ❛  is  there  anything  i  can  do ?  ❜

{ x - accepting }

He shook his head, “You have done so much, you do not need to do more. Rest now, let me serve you if I may.”

@clippher​ said: ❛  are  you  okay ?  ❜

{ x - accepting }

He had been walking around by himself, only vaguely aware of his surroundings. He was only vaguely paying attention. His mind was clearly elsewhere. He could handle himself of course, but he was also being a bit stupid walking about by himself. He turned at the voice, “Oh, quite. I was just-- thinking, that’s all.”

(And one or two extra...) || Not currently accepting

        He could not get there fast enough.

        The week of knowing had been a thorn in his side. A distraction, pure and simple, needling him with every breath. The kind of thing that made him aware with a vengeance of things like distance and the way that meant he couldn’t do anything and how he had been before -and would no doubt be again- on the other side of such a situation. (Hetty had noticed his discontent, asked after him and, when he answered her true, laughed, cradled his face, and told him ‘welcome to the club.’) Truth be told, there had been nothing for him to do regardless of where he was. It was only the waiting and the distance and the waiting from a distance that had sunk its teeth so mercilessly into his chest.

        And it was biting down harder the nearer he drew to the Lost Revenge. He had offered his help and would fulfill that. First, though. First.

        Henry spotted her among the crew and beamed, vaulting the ships rail like it was an afterthought. His feet hit the deck and cargo could wait and Desiree could threaten him if she wanted to – he went straight to Noelani and pulled her into arms, kissed her right there without even the slightest inclination that he cared more than a whit for anything else going on around them. When he drew back, he was laughing softly; joy and relief and joy again.

        “Hi,” he greeted belatedly. A heartbeat later only, he caught sight of a bruise on the corner of- “Your head.” He fell into a mild fuss, grimacing as he looked her over for any other evidence of the battle as if she would not have already done the same a week gone; as if the mark on her head wasn’t a fading shadow and nothing more. He ran his thumb over it. He followed after with a kiss of feathers and well wishes. “I’m glad you’re back.”