@olympianqueen || starter.
Sometimes Fauna lost track of time. No, lost track of time a bit too well. Days seemed endlessly long in happening, but hopelessly many in the amount she experienced. It’s why sometimes she wouldn’t answer messages from friends, and they’d appear at her door two weeks later demanding to know if she was alive. Yes, of course, she would say. And then they’d take her to dinner or coffee to make sure that was still true. Even if Fauna was responsible and just, she could lose track of just about any amount of temporal measure that she was assigned.
Which is why she was desperately trying to make it up to Hera for abandoning their text discussion a month ago by offering to pay for coffee and lunch---because worrying your friends was less than fun, really. She got there half an hour early (or an hour, who was keeping track) and had ordered herself a tea while she waited at the best booth in the corner. Beautiful lighting, but tucked away enough to have a private conversation. She sat anxiously until she saw her friend--an odd happening of having a mutual friend and then hitting it off--and stood to wave to her. Presence known. It would be fine. A month of not talking was fine. Besides---it wasn’t the worst time silence they’d had.
“Hera, Hi!”
