closed for @sungrown
THUNK!! having thrown her bow down, the object skidding across faded wood and crashing destructively against thee northern wall, eloise released a frustrated grunt of disappointment as her arrow holster followed suit, failure driving the girl to complete and utter despair. beloved hunting gear now lay awry, abandoned in the foyer as long limbs carried fury-infused bones through the dull lit hall of lionscrest, face hot with emotion, heart aching for any sort of comfort she could manage to get ( and knowing, of course, exactly where to find it ). it was about 5:46am, as foretold by a digital watch secured to boney wrist, so hunting boots carried the french-native outside to the garden, where the lull of morning greetings and whistled tunes came from the lips of comfort itself; christopher haas. ❝ i give up!! ❞ she informed him, maddened , collapsing on the ground amongst the gardening supplies & blades of well-kept grass. ❝ these woods are dry as bone it’s been days since i’ve found anything. i’m as useful as dust. ❞
