Silver Creek epiphany

founding thread, uuuhhhh--- she can't walk the borders so i guess she's like gathering herbs or some shite idk

Slowly, she begins to settle into the rhythm she once enjoyed here. Womanly duties: herbs and care. The smell of estrus lingers faintly in the air, coming from Lilah's den. She has not yet visited the woman, though Grayson had encouraged it. Even the whiff stirs something within her, something she can never enjoy here. Better to stay away.

Padding along the edge of the creek, she pulls moss from the nooks and crannies where snow cannot touch. It is a testament to the plant that it can thrive even in this weather. Just like Addison herself, it endures. She balls it up with practiced precision, moving along, engaged in mindless work. She falls into a state of bliss; she has always found such comfort in tiny tasks.

But every so often, she thinks of the witches. The way they had touched her, with not pain but pleasure. The places they'd found, inside and out. They had plied her with drugs and laid her back, running their mouths along each and every curve of her supple flesh. . .

Addison bows her head, shaking it slowly and coming back to the drab reality of Rosings. Hell is not torture, it is desire in its most chaotic and unbridled form. Purity, simplicity, chastity--that is where true virtue is to be found. By returning to her brothers, she has risen above temptation, and put her soul above the wants of her body. She will forever be blessed for that alone.

The moss is cool on her hot tongue, the rationality to temper her passions.