There was a few things Jewell deemed necessary to do before she fled RhyDin to seek solace and peace of mind. One was to say goodbye to the Clubhouse. It took her forever to get through those dratted woods, she kept tripping up on roots and such only causing further injury to her abused body. Such was life.
When she came upon the clearing she stopped to stare silently at the ruins that was once the spot of almost every joyful memory of the last year and a half. She had come during the day so she wouldn't be disturbed, not even by her best friend forever Tara. She had come to say goodbye to the clubhouse yet, she wasn't horribly surprised to find it in burnt ruins. It seemed fitting.
Their little Wayward lives were in ruins without the Pix; she was the heart of their group. She reached up to touch the green teardrops she had painted on her face, they were over the spot that she had hurt when she fell on Amthy's teacup that time.
She stayed at the entrance to the clearing, sitting down on the grass there to stare at the burnt rubble. The belles she had strung in the trees sounded mournful as the breeze urged them to play their tune. A butterfly came to rest nearby on the grass and she turned her burning eyes from the former-clubhouse to the fluttering insect. Amthy had tried to catch a butterfly once, when Jewell had flooded the clubhouse yard in order to make her pool.
She held her hand out and the butterfly flew up and took up its perch on her fingers, "Ammy wanted to catch your friend so she could ride on him. That's when she could still be little, before she got green." The butterfly just flapped its wings, not understanding a word the fae said, "We were supposed to have an outing with the girls, you know? I'd take out my girls and she'd bring her fosterlings and we'd all do something fun together. It would have been fun, but we just never...we never did it."
She made a motion with her hand to release the butterfly and cover her face, hiding the sight of the burnt clubhouse from eyes that were quickly filling with tears.
When she came upon the clearing she stopped to stare silently at the ruins that was once the spot of almost every joyful memory of the last year and a half. She had come during the day so she wouldn't be disturbed, not even by her best friend forever Tara. She had come to say goodbye to the clubhouse yet, she wasn't horribly surprised to find it in burnt ruins. It seemed fitting.
Their little Wayward lives were in ruins without the Pix; she was the heart of their group. She reached up to touch the green teardrops she had painted on her face, they were over the spot that she had hurt when she fell on Amthy's teacup that time.
She stayed at the entrance to the clearing, sitting down on the grass there to stare at the burnt rubble. The belles she had strung in the trees sounded mournful as the breeze urged them to play their tune. A butterfly came to rest nearby on the grass and she turned her burning eyes from the former-clubhouse to the fluttering insect. Amthy had tried to catch a butterfly once, when Jewell had flooded the clubhouse yard in order to make her pool.
She held her hand out and the butterfly flew up and took up its perch on her fingers, "Ammy wanted to catch your friend so she could ride on him. That's when she could still be little, before she got green." The butterfly just flapped its wings, not understanding a word the fae said, "We were supposed to have an outing with the girls, you know? I'd take out my girls and she'd bring her fosterlings and we'd all do something fun together. It would have been fun, but we just never...we never did it."
She made a motion with her hand to release the butterfly and cover her face, hiding the sight of the burnt clubhouse from eyes that were quickly filling with tears.