Calico
Old Battle Axe
Covian Guardsman
Covian Legend
Karma: +24/-5
Posts: 619
"Tired but never weak."
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« on: August 16, 2006, 07:30:01 am » |
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It was twilight when Calico sank into the waves of the Covian bay with a bone weary sigh, relishing the feel of the brisk salt water washing over her. How long had it been since she'd bothered to bathe? As she surfaced her copper gaze flicked towards where Locke was lounging, his face averted, as she picked up the soap he'd left for her on the grassy bank. Turning back to look out over the waves she worked the soap into a lather and started to attack the layers of filth in her hair with a vengeance.
Kate hadn't been sober for any extended period of time in the last year. Even before that she'd started dabbling in nightshade, smoking the stuff, not just putting it on her assassins blade. Some where in the drunken stupor she'd stopped remembering to eat regularly. The Shattered Skull in Skara Brae had been her main haunt. Until the Ophidians had invaded.
Dunking under the waves again to rinse her hair Calico blinked water out of her eyes, then looked down at her hands. Her nails were over grown, and yellowed from shade smoke, every bone in her hands stood out. They could have belonged to a withered old crone only thing lacking would be wrinkles. Her gaze lowered more, even in the forgiving darkness of twilight the state she was in could turn stomachs. Kate was painfully skinny from being underfed for so long. Her elbows were larger around than her upper arm, and it was a wonder her scrawny legs were able to carry her any distance. It had been nothing short of a miracle that she had escaped Skara.
That's how Locke had found her. Kate had taken up residence in an abandoned shack on the fringe of Yew. She couldn't stray to far from civilization, where would she get rum then? The celt had taken her to a healers hut near by, and given her a draught that had sobered her up.
With quiet splashes, what was left of the Covian scout set about finishing her wash. What was it he'd said that reminded her she was, in fact, still alive? She couldn't remember, and that bothered Calico, a frown marking her face as she worked at her filthy skin with the soap.
~~~
It felt odd some how to be wearing a skirt and shirt that weren't full of holes. After talking with Grief she fidgeted with her skirts as she paced through Cove.
Calico had spent the night alone in a small house inside the Covian walls Tiberius and Ryan had once shared. Locke had brought her some what up to speed on things after her bath while she nibbled at some food the night before. If the celt was right about Tiberius's promotion, Ryan would sleep there again before Tib would. There was a void, one that no amount of rum would fill, but Calico couldn't afford to to dwell on it any more. Rolling in her anguish had nearly been the end of her, even now, she wasn't sure how much shed be able to come back from that brink.
She came to a stop, looking up at the craft hall, before taking a deep breath... and entering.
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