Who: Cat&Cal What: Dealing with the effects of the dame When: May 8th, about ten minutes after this text Where: Her place Warnings: lots of cursing, angry Irish smacks, discussing abuse
After about ten minutes of being huddled under a stand, she made her way back to her trailer as she had promised Callum. And anyway, they were all under house arrest according to Kennet. And anyway, between the body and the visions and the pain in her skull, she would be glad to go back. She was puffy-faced and red in the eyes from her endless tears throughout the day but she would be fine... Catherine Dougherty could soldier on. Perhaps not without time, not without consequence but she would survive. That's what she did, what her family did, what her people did. They were survivors.
First, though, she had to deal with a werewolf who was just as broken as she was feeling. And he couldn't go wandering because of his knee. When she finally made it back to her trailer, she immediately hung up her shawl, knowing that Callum was likely still burrito'd on her bed. Without a word, she poured herself a glass of that fine whisky Elia had sent her days ago. Had it really only been days? And likely whisky wasn't very good to be drinking after two seizures and having your mind shredded by spirits but what the fuck ever. She'd do as she pleased.
The glass was emptied forthwith, such a shame to do to such a fine alcohol, but she needed the burn and the buzz. For a moment, she thought about turning on the lights. Instead, she grabbed a lighter and lit the numerous candles one by one. Better. "Callum," she started, but unsure of where to continue, so instead just apologizing again, "I'm sorry I went out without telling you."