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With the weather being as cold as it was, today Parker decided to stay confined to the warmer areas of the manor and out of the biting wind. She did enjoy the snow, and the simple beauty of a calm winter morning, but she had little love for the unforgiving weather fronts that often moved across Nova Scotia. No, today was reserved for the simple comforts of home. Though she wondered how much relaxation she would get with Artemis still in a coma, sequestered away behind closed doors, and under heavy blankets. They'd all spent hours sitting around her bedside, hoping and praying for some sort of miracle. It pained her to think of her once strong, boisterous sister wasting away in a bed of all places. Parker slicked her ears back and rose from her bed, the fabric beneath her finger tips suddenly repulsive.
She padded across the small room to the door, glancing back only once to check the condition she was leaving it in. The toy lamb that she'd had since she was a small child sat propped against her pillow, battered and beaten, but otherwise intact. Parker knew she was getting too old now to be emotionally reliant on something reserved for children, but at the same time it was a comforting remnant of her childhood. A part of her wanted to take it with her downstairs, and it was that feeling of need that finally won out in the end. Rushing back she collected the stuffed toy, and exited the open door in a fluid movement, taking care to shut it behind her with a soft click.
Standing on the landing, Parker reached out with her free hand to rest it on the aging railing. A worried glance was sent towards Artemis' room, where the hum of hushed voices rose and fell in cadence. She wanted to check in on her, see if anything had changed, but she almost feared the worst. A soft whine tumbled from her lips and she turned, descending the stairs and rounding about to face the fireplace. It was cold, the ashes scattered about by the faintest drafts of wind. The quiet girl wished she had the wherewithal to light it, but she would have to content herself with the silence, and the chill.
A blanket had been draped over the back of one of the chairs. It was tattered, old, but it smelled like her pack. That was enough. She reached for it and shrugged it over her shoulders before settling down in the chair, pulling her legs to her chest, and hugging her lamb tight.
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