She couldn't sleep. Again. Ever since the murders that had landed Issy in jail started, Reeni had trouble sleeping. There was too much turning over in her mind, and no matter how she tossed and turned, she only seemed to sleep in short fits. She sighed and rolled over, then punched her pillow a few times. She rolled over again, flopping back against the pillow she'd just abused. The she shifted over to her left side. A few moments later she was turning over to her right side. Nothing seemed to feel comfortable. Her mind was running in too many circles for her to be able to get comfortable.
Finally she threw back the covers and slipped out of the bed. She needed to move, burn off some energy. There was no light necessary, Reeni knew the contents of her room, knew what was there to be bumped into and where to go to avoid doing so. She moved to the center of her room, pushing aside anything that might get into the way, and then proceeded to go through a cycle of various kicks and punches, letting her body take over the movements and letting her mind go blank. It was all familiar to her, none of it required conscious thought, and as she cycled through she increased the speed each round. A good forty-five minutes later, Ren completed the last kick and sat down on the bed, breathing hard. A sheen of sweat had broken out over her body and she didn't want to crawl back under the sheets just yet.
She stood and grabbed her terrycloth robe off of the hook behind her door and shrugged into it, belting it at her waist. A quick trip to the trunk that held her more prized possessions had her pulling out an old, worn wooden version of her chakram. Her very first. The belt was undone so that she could slip the bit of wood through it, and then redone. It was certainly not fit for fighting with, but it was her version of a teddy bear, her security blanket.
A glance at the clock told her it was nearing dawn. Another night spent doing more tossing and turning than sleeping. It was starting to take its toll on Reeni. Her temper was closer to the surface, all the frustration and anger at the situation threatening to flare at usually minor irritations. She huffed a breath, blowing a few limp strands of blonde hair from her face, and pulled the door open, slipping out of her room. Perhaps she could find a snack in the kitchen. Fingers rubbed the worn wood as she shuffled along, an unconscious gesture on her part.
Finally she threw back the covers and slipped out of the bed. She needed to move, burn off some energy. There was no light necessary, Reeni knew the contents of her room, knew what was there to be bumped into and where to go to avoid doing so. She moved to the center of her room, pushing aside anything that might get into the way, and then proceeded to go through a cycle of various kicks and punches, letting her body take over the movements and letting her mind go blank. It was all familiar to her, none of it required conscious thought, and as she cycled through she increased the speed each round. A good forty-five minutes later, Ren completed the last kick and sat down on the bed, breathing hard. A sheen of sweat had broken out over her body and she didn't want to crawl back under the sheets just yet.
She stood and grabbed her terrycloth robe off of the hook behind her door and shrugged into it, belting it at her waist. A quick trip to the trunk that held her more prized possessions had her pulling out an old, worn wooden version of her chakram. Her very first. The belt was undone so that she could slip the bit of wood through it, and then redone. It was certainly not fit for fighting with, but it was her version of a teddy bear, her security blanket.
A glance at the clock told her it was nearing dawn. Another night spent doing more tossing and turning than sleeping. It was starting to take its toll on Reeni. Her temper was closer to the surface, all the frustration and anger at the situation threatening to flare at usually minor irritations. She huffed a breath, blowing a few limp strands of blonde hair from her face, and pulled the door open, slipping out of her room. Perhaps she could find a snack in the kitchen. Fingers rubbed the worn wood as she shuffled along, an unconscious gesture on her part.