Picking up the pieces

Some months had passed since the violence and violation that had been done to her. Physically, Syanna had made a full recovery—her body was back to its former glory and she was up and about, living her life as if she'd never been stopped. But mentally, emotionally, she was just going through the motions. Time had healed many of her wounds, but there were still deep-running scars left behind on her soul, some that she feared might never fully heal again. On a day to day basis, the vibrant-furred woman seemed like she'd settled back into her normal routines. She went about her job working with Gwynevere in the infirmary and keeping their pharmaceutical stores organized, tended to the gardens, all of her regular duties. But if one looked closely enough or watched her long enough, they might notice the subtle quirks, the ticks that gave away her fragile mental state.

Syanna, who had once been the veritable definition of confidence and fortitude, now moved much more carefully, as if thinking about every move she made. Loud noises would make her jump and her fur stand on end, she tried to avoid dark spaces and she didn't leave her room at night. She'd developed a habit of instinctively looking over her shoulder whenever she left a room, making sure nobody she didn't know was near her, and she kept herself enthralled in her work as if stopping for even a moment would be an egregious crime. She didn't turn down the company of her pack mates and she engaged in conversations that came to her, but she no longer sought them out the way she once had. It was like the vulpine-esque wolf had become a hollow effigy of her former self.

Today, Syanna was working in the infirmary, restocking some of the at-hand supplies they kept in the cupboards following the emergency treatment of Asheila. She wanted to be sure everything they could possibly need in an emergency situation was in its proper place and ready to go at a moment's notice. She stowed a few tinctures of trillium and elixirs of wintergreen in the cabinets, a small stash of fresh herbs on the table next to her waiting to be mixed up or stowed away. When it came to medical crises, a single second could be the difference between life or death for their patients. This urgency was what kept her motivated and moving—and what kept her from focusing on her own issues. The more she ignored it, the more it didn't affect her... right?

"Syanna"