Old Roots
03-24-2022, 10:58 PM
Though Bowen had been back with the Hallows wolves for some time, she still didn't know who lived where within the castle. Hell, she still didn't know some of the wolves that were her packmates. The woman had become reclusive. She often spent her days locked away or out exploring. There was no real desire to mingle, even with her own family. After sending Haiku back to Abaven, Bowen was really, really lonely. Despite this, she avoided others as much as possible, becoming a ghost in her own home.
The castle was quiet today and the nice weather made the caramel and cream fae believe that everyone was outside enjoying it. Peering out into the hall, she didn't see or hear anyone, so it seemed like a good opportunity to do a little work. Taking up a straw broom, the woman moved up and down the hall, sweeping up rogue fur, debris, cobwebs. She made her way around the circuit, noting an odd trail of dirt coming starting at the stairwell. It wasn't much, but it was enough of a trail to follow as she swept.
With the wooden handle between her teeth, Bowen made short work of the dirt, brushing it into a little pile that she would pick up during her second pass. From the stairwell behind her came loud, excited voices and it threw the woman into a panic. Just the idea of being forced to interact with someone; being forced to fake it... anxiety flared within her. She just wasn't comfortable enough with herself to be social. And so, like a coward, the slender fae spied an open door and ducked inside, gently closing it behind her. Within her chest, her heart hammered and she stared at the door, waiting for the happy sounds of conversation to end so that she could resume her task.
From behind her, the sound of stone on stone almost made the fae jump out of her skin. Pink lips parted in a soft gasp and she turned, emerald eyes wide to see none other than Emile standing across the room. This was his room! Bowen visibly grimaced, ears tucking back as she seemed to shrink in on herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered, backing against the door, but was still unable to make herself open it as the voices outside had yet to stop echoing in the halls.
Bowen Arrow Carpathius