It was beside the creek that she woke that day, coiled into herself as much as any equine could, their bones were not meant for curling up- it had taken her several attempts to learn this over the coming weeks. Not for lack of trying, often looking absurd as she failed to wound around herself like she had as a canine, to tuck herself in with her tail. Strange though, the chill had not left her aching beside the water, no more so than she usually did. Her right ankle was the only exception; an ever constant reminder throughout her seemingly endless lives. All things to be expected due to the season, which still continued to change, the days colder as they grew long into the heart of Winter. Days as short as her list of companions, she moved as molasses does down the ragged bark of a tree making friends in this place.
Clinging far too dearly to that which she could not have back, to a life passed.
Her breath hangs like a fog as she breathes it, freely, here as she stands in the quiet of the fields. Another place she has no name for, another world where she must relearn life and this time, this time, her task was much more difficult. Tested, with an unyielding will to comply to the task set before her. For a coward, she was more than she seemed, stronger than she let on. Perhaps not of body, but there are many things that might define strength, in this, Reckitt was strong of faith; if she was weak in all else.
A place was found within the realm, Novus, moving along a path that was one of comfort, security. Often resorting to what she knew she was capable of, which was much more than one might guess- all in due time. A healer, a medic, an alchemist, her expertise was called different things but it was all the same in the end; one day she might be reminded that she is much the same as she ever was. Dawn Court, they did not turn her away, instead they welcomed her, she was quietly thankful for them, helping where she could, but a shadow in her own right. Reckitt was a silent presence in a loud world that was always teetering on the ledge of chaos and crashing ruckus, tempting fate in ways she never dared; not outright.
If anything seemed to bring her a semblance of a rock to hold her up, the strength she needed to push on in this body that was hers, and not hers at all. A buffer between the world that was often too much for the soft soul of a Druid, though she was not sure she was one anymore, was she?
It was Rou, the kind soldier that lent his strength to the weak, the not capable, to souls like herself.
@Corrdelia <3
