Who: Fever, Helena, and those threading with them What:January non-event things. When: All month. Where: Across the isle. Warning(s): To be noted in threads individually
A call on the sending stone reaches Phil the day after Mourner's Night.
"Can I come and see you? Just for a little while."
It's possible to say it over the rock, Fever knows, but she needs to say it in person. Needs to look him in the eye and say it, so he knows that there isn't a single doubt. And it being an excuse to actually see him doesn't hurt at all.
He sounds subdued--mostly the weather, as he's explained. Makes him melancholy. The winter was exciting for a while, but now that the novelty's worn off, his head's taken the opportunity to settle back into its old rhythms.
"Just tell me where you are, and I'll come to you. Anywhere on the island, even if you're on the peak of Crane's Ridge."
The lightness in her heart asks her to move, to walk around and see the world with fresh eyes, and she gives it its space to be. There will be time to luxuriate in sleep later, all the time in the world. And given how Phil's feeling, bringing him good news for the future certainly does no harm.
True to her word, it won't take terribly long. The walk is exactly what she needed, and though there is chill, enough to nip at the tips of her ears, she can't be upset about it or that she forgot a hat. It's too easy to get caught up in the way sunlight looks on snow, the crunch of it beneath her boots, the easy beat of her heart. Alive, alive, alive. So much to do, and so much to soak in. By the time she gets to the house, she's mulling over what she's going to have to do in the next few days. Some people need to be seen sooner rather than later, after all, and there are promises to keep. And all of them will be handled, she's sure of it.
It's because she's fairly certain his kid is still in the middle of recovering from surgery that she doesn't give into the urge to shout from outside, and remembers manners to knock on the door. The news can wait until she's defrosted, at least.
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december.
"Can I come and see you? Just for a little while."
It's possible to say it over the rock, Fever knows, but she needs to say it in person. Needs to look him in the eye and say it, so he knows that there isn't a single doubt. And it being an excuse to actually see him doesn't hurt at all.
no subject
He sounds subdued--mostly the weather, as he's explained. Makes him melancholy. The winter was exciting for a while, but now that the novelty's worn off, his head's taken the opportunity to settle back into its old rhythms.
"Where should I meet you?"
no subject
The lightness in her heart asks her to move, to walk around and see the world with fresh eyes, and she gives it its space to be. There will be time to luxuriate in sleep later, all the time in the world. And given how Phil's feeling, bringing him good news for the future certainly does no harm.
no subject
"I'm home right now." As he usually is these days. "It's cold outside. I'll let you in."
no subject
True to her word, it won't take terribly long. The walk is exactly what she needed, and though there is chill, enough to nip at the tips of her ears, she can't be upset about it or that she forgot a hat. It's too easy to get caught up in the way sunlight looks on snow, the crunch of it beneath her boots, the easy beat of her heart. Alive, alive, alive. So much to do, and so much to soak in. By the time she gets to the house, she's mulling over what she's going to have to do in the next few days. Some people need to be seen sooner rather than later, after all, and there are promises to keep. And all of them will be handled, she's sure of it.
It's because she's fairly certain his kid is still in the middle of recovering from surgery that she doesn't give into the urge to shout from outside, and remembers manners to knock on the door. The news can wait until she's defrosted, at least.