|Patrick is (elfen) wrote in repose,|
@ 2016-01-22 20:38:00
|Entry tags:||*log, cat dubrovna, matt devlin, muerte graves|
[Treating Em: Cat, Matt, Em]
[Cat had never been to Em's place in the woods, but that? Was unimportant. She'd figure that out. The important thing? Was the fact that Em had been in pain for nearly a month now. She wasn't sure how far Emily's humanity extended, and she wasn't sure if Emily was the type of woman who was prone to exaggeration. All she knew? Was that a month for a burn to heal? Was much too much. And the fact that Em didn't even seem to know what an infection was? That didn't help Cat feel any better about things.
And she trusted Matt, which helped. Oh, she didn't trust him not to kill someone at the drop of a hat, and she didn't trust him to be a harmless lapdog in need of a hug - unlike Grant - but she trusted him not to say anything if Em sprouted inky black wings during a medical examine, and wasn't that something? Matt was a man of secrets, and Cat knew a tiny bit about those, so at least she wasn't worried about bringing Matt into Em's world. Em wasn't a Russian spy, and there was nothing to worry about.
So, jeans and a black sweater, a peacoat in shiny leather, boots and a beanie over her riot of curls, Cat found herself at the entrance to the caves. Black gloves on her fingers, and only idle curiosity about what was happening underground. There had been enough obsessive curiosity in her New Jersey days about underground caves. These days? She would prefer to stay above ground, thank you very much. She shifted from one foot to the other, ready to get moving, seeing as she was having unfortunate thoughts about Emily's hand rotting off. Cat? She wasn't particularly interested in playing nurse. And the quicker Matt got to his patient? The better.]