Broken, everything was just broken. As the pieces of wood were held in her hand Mati could not help but believe that it was all so very broken. Her feelings were so jumbled inside, and yet she refused to allow herself to feel them. They needed to be locked away, to a place where she could not touch them, or see them, or allow anyone else to see them. But away they would not stay. Again and again Mati would see the face of her pack mate, see the embarrassment and the humiliation stricken on her face as she turned and left her. Mati needed to lock that away as well, never allow herself to see it, and then she wouldn’t feel this way. Broken, dismembered. The frame sat in her hand, her eyes threatening tears, her thoughts raging so loudly in her mind that she almost did not hear the voice that spoke to her. Let alone the presence of his body right beside hers.
Mati looked at his sandy and dark colored face. No, there was no time, no energy to take in the details of his face. She was on verge of tears, and she needed to clear her sight and compose herself before meeting him properly and truly looking at every color he wore. His question lingered in the space between them, and the Church female felt obligated to answer. “No.” She responded, the honestly unable to be hidden by hollow lies. She was far from okay, and yet the tangible reason that was held in her hands was far from the true explanation. “I broke it.” She explained, watching as he helped her gather the supplies that had fallen on the ground. That was sweet of him, she thought as she looked back at the frame. Mati dropped the pieces, and then worked to collect the usable materials back into the bags.
He smelled of Haven, of that pack and Mati then realized how close she was to their borders. Maybe she needed to see her brother, though the moment she thought it the Dreamer shot down such an idea. Her brother? To tell him such a thing would be beyond humiliating and how could he help her anyways, how could anyone?
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