Old Roots

Gods, what a mess! The look of panic on Emile's face sent Bowen sinking lower to the ground. This was his space and she was intruding on it. It was no secret that he had been avoiding her. She'd been avoiding him as well. Not just him, though. Everyone. The woman was so uncomfortable in her own skin since returning to the castle that she wasn't ready to interact with others. Everyone was on one side and Bowen stood alone on the other. No one made her feel ostracized other than herself. The wolves of The Hallows were nothing but kind. She was such a wreck.

Shuddering words crossed the distance between them as Emile apologized. Viridian eyes opened wide, panicked, and Bowen shook her head. Why was he apologizing to her? The voices in the hall drew nearer, laughing, carrying on. The copper and cream fae cringed and moved away from the door in case they were to see her shadow beneath it. In doing so, Bowen slid all the way into an empty corner, far from the door and far from Emile. She pressed herself as tightly to that corner as she could manage in the hopes that, by doing so, she would somehow become one with the wall and save herself from this embarrassment.

What in the hell was wrong with her? She wasn't like this when she was younger. She wasn't even like this after she first returned to the castle. Now that she was acclimated to being here... had something changed? Yes, she had been incredibly anxious and lonely since asking Haiku to leave, but... had that single thing thrown her emotional processes upside down? The woman was a wreck. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, then sank to the ground in a little caramel colored ball, wrapping her long tail over her face as she tried to breathe and control herself enough to leave.

"Bowen"