Lost Creek Hollow the black hills, the colly

last from me <3 lore established

A week. Such an oddly specific time frame, but Wren was in no state of mind to question it. She feared that if she did not leave right now immediately she might pass out, and the last thing she needed was to have the gaze of hardened turquoise look upon her with pity or even disgust. 
For some reason, some godforsaken reason, Wren wanted to be liked by her so horribly that she had forgotten how unlikable she herself was, and it weighed on her like a sack of bricks. 
Thank you, again, for the tour, she adds, a quirk of a smile that curls a trembling lip. take care, yeah? 
She would not stick around, either. A cordial, but awkward nod as she makes her exit, stopping only to shake the crystalline droplets from an oiled coat. And as she exits the border and heads southward, she can still feel those eyes upon her.