It always seems to come back to here.
The snow gave way under the soles of dark sneakers, little furrows dug into it whenever she moved one foot forward in the act of simply stepping. A few errant flakes drifted down to cling to the shoulders of her jacket. It was a new one, dark blue, with white banding.
One of the things she'd been able to buy since her return. It had been a long time since even that had been possible.
Hot water, pelting and with the peculiar atmospheric scent of reclaimed pre-precipitation, streamed down around her, pattering across her shoulders and the back of her neck and head, streaming down to the floor. Past the black locks dangling wetly around the edges in her vision, Rhiannon watched with distracted fascination as each drip tumbled to the tile floor with a little splash.
A little thing she'd started to take for granted, she realized. Plumbing that works when she taps…
This is an OOC entry and serves as notice that I am, at the least, going to be taking an extended absence from IS. At the end of the day I've simply been unable to find the passion for the game I used to have. There's various reasons behind that, but for now I feel a strong need to step back and watch from a distance until I feel like I'm in the right headspace to come back strong.
See y'all on the flip side, and thanks for all the fish.