[For the first time in recent memory, Ellie's clean. No grease in her hair, no dirt smudged over her freckles. It's a strange feeling, but one she can get used to. Showers? Warm water? Pretty awesome, even if she and Joel are stuck in temporary housing which means communal showers.
Mornings, however? Not Ellie's favorite, she's beginning to realize. It takes her a long time to shake off her dreams--nightmares, sometimes--and she drags her feet along the damp ground, unusually quiet, at least until something catches her attention and chases the bad away. Sometimes, she dreams about being in a cage. Sometimes, she's riding Callus. Other times, there's a hand shoving her face into the floor, a heavy weight on her back. Sometimes she wakes up with a barely concealed jolt of fear, and she hates it.
Another reason to loathe that fucker.
She loops her thumbs through the straps of her pack as she walks with Joel, watching him from the corner of her eye. He was fine. No longer did she worry about him bleeding to death. It was good to be out and about with him again, even if her mind kept wandering to this and that, because this was familiar. This felt right, even if they were in some place full of magical people and super heroes. Pale purple half-moons have formed under Ellie's eyes from hours spent staring at the ceiling instead of falling asleep. It's hard to do, even if they're relatively safe. Those fucking dreams.
With a yawn, Ellie stretches her arms over her head.]
no subject
Mornings, however? Not Ellie's favorite, she's beginning to realize. It takes her a long time to shake off her dreams--nightmares, sometimes--and she drags her feet along the damp ground, unusually quiet, at least until something catches her attention and chases the bad away. Sometimes, she dreams about being in a cage. Sometimes, she's riding Callus. Other times, there's a hand shoving her face into the floor, a heavy weight on her back. Sometimes she wakes up with a barely concealed jolt of fear, and she hates it.
Another reason to loathe that fucker.
She loops her thumbs through the straps of her pack as she walks with Joel, watching him from the corner of her eye. He was fine. No longer did she worry about him bleeding to death. It was good to be out and about with him again, even if her mind kept wandering to this and that, because this was familiar. This felt right, even if they were in some place full of magical people and super heroes. Pale purple half-moons have formed under Ellie's eyes from hours spent staring at the ceiling instead of falling asleep. It's hard to do, even if they're relatively safe. Those fucking dreams.
With a yawn, Ellie stretches her arms over her head.]