Whittle Away the Time We Have

She felt the shame flush through her shaking limbs as she fought to get a steadying breath, deep and cleansing. Wash away the memories, concentrate on the here and now. Even if the here and now meant facing the disappointment that was surely to be in Alastor’s expression.

He took a step towards her and she gasped softly, ears folding to her head. She fought the urge to flee. She had to face up to who she was. She couldn’t run all the time. How would she ever get better if she gave in to that voice of cowardice?

“No… no. I’m fine” her voice was brisk and rough, and she swiped a paw across her brows like she had a headache. Actually, she did a little. She had a tougher head then most, courtesy of the scales, but she had hit it pretty hard against the bush. It seemed unimportant with everything else jumbling about her head. There had to be a way to salvage it. In an attempt to deflect his attention, she pointed towards the elk. “Lets see how much you can stuff your face, then” the joke was a little flat, even she could tell that.

"Speech"