Blackfeather Woods jasmine

The rise and fall of her chest quicken, claws digging into the dirt to help ground her. She notices it’s not yet and she isn’t entirely sure how far she’s gone from the creek bank. It’s hard to focus on that with a strange across the way, splashing into the water. It gets louder and her ears fall back, listening a beat later when the sounds stop and she just ears the bubble of the creek and his offer to go. Ocracoke doesn’t move, or say anything, but stays lowers her head to the ground and waits so she can figure out how to get back to the glen and call this trip another failure.