It’s Not About Handling the Truth but Accpeting It. -closed.-

[loves.blessing.]

The tattered woman that used to be McKinley walked into the open meadow where her cottage sat. Lately the walls that made her home felt more like a prison. It was left of a reminder of all her failures and broken life. Shoulders slightly hunched forward, head hanging low and her once bright aura now fading, she sauntered to her house.

Her hopes of her dire wolf coming to greet her were quickly shattered when she entered the opening. If Nymeria had returned to her she would have almost trampled her, slathering her face with kisses. A small sob echoed off the emptiness around her as she was so unsure of everything in her life right now. Her beloved companion had been gone over a month and no sign of her returning. She had found herself smack dab in the middle of a war between two gods, two kenkus on both sides.

Joshua…

Just the thought of his name sent a crippling ache in the middle of her breast. She gulped for air and pushed forward. The door still hung off all but one of its hinges from when Avin had kicked it in. As she entered the cottage, she found it still in ruins. Her bookshelf that she had built herself was in splinter pieces from the male kenku throwing her across the room into it. Her gaze swept the room to the busted window from when he rushed her. One puddle of old blood dried from when he had stabbed her in front of the breakfast nook.

McKinley’s hand shook as she lightly touched her stomach from where the spear was embedded. Another small dried up puddle around the counter from where he had used her face as a punching bag. A trail of it swept across her front room to the mantle from where she had vanished.

A few tears slide down her freckled cheeks. She wiped at them as she surpassed all of it. Her small hands gripped the bottle that sat at the edge of her kitchen counter and walking to her bedroom. Her body still stiff and sore as she stripped her tatter clothes off. Her fair, ivory complexion was riddled with slowly healing bruises. She stood there for a moment studying her tattered frame before she grabbed an oversized tan colored sweater that fell to her mid thighs and off her right shoulder.

Quickly she pulled her hair into a messy bun, a few red tendrils fell around her face framing it, naturally. Slowly and carefully she crawled into her goose feathered bed. She pulled her warm, fluffy duvet around her shoulders like a cloak. Pop! She uncorked the bottle that held dark liquor in it. The harsh smell assaulted her noses as she scrunched her face slightly.

Gulp, gulp, gulp.

The liquor made a warm trail down her throat into her belly, warming her body with a shiver. She coughed and sputtered at the harshness. Her face creased in a deep frown as she put the bottle to her lips again. Another few swigs before she set the bottle aside and let the warmth that spreaded throughout her body guide her to sleep.