Broken Boulder what will you dream of tonight, lady rachel?

obligatory *vague* disclaimer

It had been about a week since she'd gotten back, but it could have been shorter or longer than that, for all she knew. Time seemed to both drag and race by; the latter when she tried to move around, the former when she found herself immobile, trapped in her head. The dark-furred girl had began to fall into a depression, ruminating on all that had come to pass.

Lily had wanted to go home. She knew that. She remembered well her fight with Alarian, and while the memories surrounding her plunge into the creek were less solid, she understood that she'd gotten there from running away. Now she was remorseful in more than one way. If she hadn't left, she wouldn't have put everyone--most of all, herself--through this drama, this dilemma. And now, with a broken ankle and a fuzzy head, she'd almost ensured that she would not go home anytime soon.

Speechless and morose, the young woman pulled herself from her den, awkward, wobbly. She limped through the tunnel, eventually settling down on her haunches just outside, utterly exhausted. The sun was warm on her ebony pelt, and she closed her eyes, finding some small comfort from it after the cool air between the boulders.

Lily took a deep inhalation, holding it for a moment, then let it go slowly, counting the seconds as they went by. Her ears swiveled lazily, listening to the little sounds around her. She opened her eyes once more, almost able to feel the sadness she knew was buried in their depths.

Quiet. Timid. Serious. The very antithesis of what she'd always been--but here she sat, still and cold as a stone.