Primrose

anastasia fawley. cabin 19. keep your four leaf clovers out of my face.

[anafawley-blog]

P:

“And what do you think  y o u ‘ r e  doing?”

               “Oh, come now. You can’t really tell me the forest is a dangerous place. We’re supposed to spend hours of capture the flag in there.”

[anafawley-blog]

C:

Nemesis hated whining. Of course, she hated plenty of things, but whining was among the very top of her very long list of things to despise. For reasons she could not comprehend, it was Charlie who had been chosen to help the girl with confronting her fear of water. Perhaps it was her son’s calm nature, his nurturing presence. Surely, Nemesis thought, they hadn’t known that she would be in control of this moment. That the last thing the girl would get, would be a guiding hand. “If you think that kind of attitude will make this any easier for you, you’re wrong.” Nemesis replied, Charlie’s calm voice cloaking her distaste. The canoe was already nestled in the sand, ready to be tugged out to the water. “You can bring this to the shore,” she told Anastasia, “I’ll supervise.”

        Anastasia puckered her lips at Charlie’s reply, a list of unkind nouns and adjectives darted across her mind. She silenced them. “Okay. Fine. Sure. I’ll go tug this along here by myself, no biggie.” Heaving a great sigh, she began to pull the canoe from the sand to the water, glad that at least her training had given her the muscle to perform a task on her own. “You know, for future reference, this would have gone a lot faster if you’d helped.” Anastasia advised, as she settled the canoe a quarter of the way into the water. “But by all means, have me do all the work.”

[anafawley-blog]

A:

                    Angie excitedly clapped before she got the paddle although she did not know how to exactly use it. She had been in the camp for years yet she still have not figured it out. That’s the thing about Angie though, it’s all about adventure. Although, to be honest, she just really wanted to be distracted by everything that was running in her mind right now.

                     She looked at the girl she dragged to canoe with her and raised her brow seeing the face she was wearing as she took it all in. She tilted her head, squinting just a little bit as the sunlight hit Ana’s golden locks. “Yeah, but you want to puke first or something? I’m pretty sure the lake fishes and the naiads would love anything from your stomach.” Angie said without a slight trace of concern in her tone.

             Anastasia turned to Angie with a slight wrinkle of her nose -   distaste at the idea of throwing up, not that the other girl had spoken. “Ew,” she replied, lifting her head up, sniffing. “That’s not going to happen. I just -    “ Anastasia paused, sighed, turned her head over to the shore as the gentle waves lapped over the sand. “I’m just in… uncharted waters, here. Literally. Why would anyone think shoving a camper afraid of water into a canoe would be a good idea? Like, ‘here, I know you’re afraid of fire, but please go stand in the middle of a burning house!’ “

[anafawley-blog]

moodboard: anastasia fawley - 1/∞

[anafawley-blog]

   The sun hung low overhead, softened by a layer of clouds, mottling the Long Island Sound with lazy streams of crepuscular light. Anastasia held a canoe paddle in her right hand. She wished it was a pencil instead.

                              She wished she could sit in the middle of the sand with her sketchbook and trace the sunset in all of its lethargic brilliance. And yet, there she was, one hand clasped around the warn out handle of the canoe stick. Anastasia hated this, the water and all that lurked underneath. She tipped her chin back up, so that she could once again take in the sunset. This was what she loved about Camp Half-Blood. Not the threat of drowning, nor the fact that she had been forced to confront this fear. “Well,” she began, frowning, “can we get this over with, already?”