WC: 603
The routine was comforting. Colibri poured more and more time into tending to the plants of Vinátta, both the communal herb garden she had started with Saul's assistance, as well as the sentimental flowers she had collected to decorate the hill surrounding her Jordheim house. Gardening had a calming effect on her, as it had throughout her life; whenever stress and anxiety threatened to break her fragile psyche down, she found herself retreating to the safety of the soil and leaves she loved so dearly. Summer was in full swing, which meant an added responsibility: water. She could not rely on rain these months, not when the heat could wilt vegetation so quickly, and crumble the loam into dry dust. While her packmates were off constructing buildings, patrolling the borders, or hunting prey, Coli was dutifully traveling from the lake to the garden with a wineskin bottle, intent on preserving the herbs and wildflowers she was cultivating.
Focusing on her admittedly trivial duties had a secondary effect -- it kept her hidden away from the unfamiliar faces, all of the new scents tracing through the village and the surrounding forest. Try as she might to overcome it, Coli was still shy and introverted at heart, and if she did not have to mingle with newcomers and introduce herself, she probably wouldn't. Eclipse's feast had been a pleasant interlude, but now she was happier to toil by herself than try to keep up appearances. She would rather her packmates forget about the traumatic assault she had endured weeks ago, cast aside their pity and perhaps forget she even lived here. Secretly, she felt very ill, and had stubbornly avoided seeing anyone about it for fear they would pity her even more.
This morning she was already carrying her water bottle, shuffling through Jordheim on her way to the herb garden. The sun was still pale and low in the sky, not yet radiating the warmth of summer she had grown accustomed to. It was tranquil at this time of day, the calm not yet broken by the howls of wolves at their border or the hustle and bustle of daily life. If she walked at a slow enough pace, the dizziness did not overtake her, so she carefully measured her lagging footsteps. She had so little energy these days, but the exhaustion did not make sense; her wounds had all closed and healed long ago, and nothing else was visibly wrong with her. And so she struggled to hide it, ashamed of her ever-present weakness and afraid she would become a useless burden to her pack if the malady progressed further. Even this short walk left her breathless and wanting to curl up in the grass to nap.
She was so lost in thought that at first she did not notice there was a figure present at the herb garden already. It was the sound of scratching that caught her attention; it reminded her of the wild mice scratching in her walls, the little scurrying noises she listened to when she could not sleep at night. Coli turned, relieved to see that it was a familiar face -- Niernan, huddled over some sort of parchment with a stick of charcoal. She held the wineskin bottle closer to her chest, unsure if she should interrupt him or come back later. It seemed like he might be writing a letter, something she knew nothing about other than what Eclipse had told her. Her ears perked forward, and she edged a few steps closer, trying to peer over his shoulder to see what he was doing.