[open] Haunted by what he knows he can't do.

[Sabal]

s a b a l . She wanted to get away. Needed to. She had tried so hard to hold it all together, but she had finally found her breaking point. The darkness, her failure at returning the light, birthing a son, the attack on Maze and her utter failure at protecting her friend and her home. It was the repeated string of failures that had really set her off, she supposed. So, here she was.  It was unlike her, to be so far from the water and to have shed her aquatic form. But for the first time in her life, the water felt like a prison and not like a respite. The cool touch of the river or the ocean was not a comfort, but a reminder of her failures. And so she had climbed from the riverbank and thrown herself into the arms of the forest – trying to reach a place where she couldn’t hear the gentle caress of water over rocks. She doesn’t have a name for this feeling, but it makes her want to be reckless. Sabal is many things, foolish maybe, but reckless? This is new.  So she tries to break into a run, weaving through the closely knit trees that threaten to leave bruises on her scaled skin or delicate fin-like wings. It feels like she’s running from something, but there’s certainly nothing chasing her. Not today, at least. So when she nearly barrels into something – or someone – she stumbles and slows for the first time.  She turns immediately, already knowing that she has like totally fucked up. Like what kind of psycho goes running through the woods like they’re being chased for shits and gigs?  Apparently her. She looks up at the stranger sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I’m – I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” Because the short answer was honestly literally everything. But nice to meet you too, stranger!

@[spirit] meet an unhinged, slightly traumatized sabal.