Unsettled. Out of sorts. Something hasn't been sitting well with Jael lately, and she doesn't really know how to articulate that. Restless. Like something was gnawing on her insides, keeping her chest heavy, living in her throat in the worst way. Jael is sorry that she aches like she does.
A wound in the shape of a girl... a girl. Still grappling with herself, still grappling with the things she felt. The things she felt about the world, the things she felt about him, the things she felt... about her, too. What was it supposed to mean, and how had she gotten here?
If she stays busy, then she stays useful. If she stays useful, she can stay here. Modesty liked her... she's pretty sure? She liked Modesty. Liked her... Jael was afraid of her, but she so desperately wanted to be like her. Confident and poised, graceful, she always knows what to say.
Do you want to fuck her or be her?
Jael wouldn't admit to either thought existing in her mind, let alone both. There's an ache that lives in her chest, and it's one that's damn near overtaken her head. It's that ache that she needs to replace with the ache of her muscles, the ache of her back. She could replace her feelings with hard work, as long as she worked hard enough. That's how it works, right?
Not like she could bury the things she thought, felt, dreamt (fuck, she's still dreaming about him?), about him. She'd been good. She'd kept her distance, she'd followed orders. For the most part. Slipping around the resort like a ghost, lighting fires to stave off the autumn chill, keeping things tidy. Tending the goats. Checking the rabbit traps. Helping the kids.
And there was the task of surveying the Archipelago, an assignment she was eager to start. It's high noon when Jael arrives on Inu Island, admittedly her first visit all the way out here. Moving just up the beach, away from the tide line, the wolfdog drags a large branch out to the sand. It's heavy, and she strips away two branches from the bottom. Leaving them standing upright, staked deep enough that they should withstand any breeze. Right. A starting point.
Filled with grim determination, Jael takes off down the beach. A crisp jog, head low to the ground. Careful to scent the world around her, searching for any scent of prey or stock on the wind. She's not hunting today, just surveying.
Professor
