stillraining | INBOX.

[it's one of the rare days this month where the clouds have been more forgiving, and she can hope that things dry out a tiny bit. still, the air feels damp, and coming back from checking on one of her patients, Emily's wondering if she shouldn't go try and see the Forest Spirit, for the usual attention and taking care of the shrine. there's time, if she decides for it, but a glimpse of someone quite tall is in her peripheral vision, and she stills.

an old reflex that has her turn, that sends a spike through her heart. the Black Guard, here? it's not impossible, but she had merely disregarded the thought as unlikely. but it's nothing like the game here. their lives were different, and she had changed as well. this she tells herself as she's quietly stepping backwards, as if she intended to slink away-

her foot hits a crate left on the sidewalk, and the contents start to angrily shake, a clatter of glass bottles and who knows what else. whatever's upset, it's loud.]

[where he's staying, a few days after their fight, a bag appears outside the front door. in it, there's some sandwiches, as well as an amount of medical supplies - enough to fix his face, and then some. there's also a plastic vial filled with an amount of a familiar faintly yellow liquid - one with a particular herbal scent.

there is no note with the delivery.]

may.

june.