sanctuary | on hold indefinitely

eighteen | crack of dawn

The sun had barely risen when Greer burst through the door of the cabin on Friday morning. She realised only after stepping inside that she hadn't knocked first. Devan stood in the corner, black dress in hand and naked save for her underwear. Her face flashed with surprise for only a moment before she smirked, making no effort to cover herself up.

Greer glanced at her body, all curves that her loose clothes usually kept hidden, before blushing and turning away. She covered her eyes, placing her free hand on the door handle in case she needed to make a quick exit. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think to knock. I'll give you a minute."

"Don't bother, love." Her voice was full of amusement as Greer heard her rustle around. "I doubt it's anything you haven't already seen. I wasn't expecting you at the crack of dawn, mind you."

"Sorry," Greer grimaced again, lowering her hand but keeping her back to Devan. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. "Your message sounded urgent and I have to be back in Chester this afternoon."

"I'm decent," Devan responded.

Greer turned around to find Devan pulling on her tights and boots. To avoid eye contact, Greer shrugged her backpack off and dropped it to the floor, relieving her throbbing shoulders of the weight. The food she'd packed into containers clattered as she did, and Devan raised an eyebrow in question.

"I figured you'd need some food that wasn't cold baked beans." She slid the bag over to her. "There's water in there, and bread, crisps, sandwiches. Looted the pantry this morning."

Devan's expression softened with gratefulness for only a moment before she pursed her lips and brushed her hair back so that it fell behind her shoulders. "You shouldn't have. I have to leave."

Greer sighed, taking a seat on the solitary wooden chair that sat by the table—a risky move, she realised, as the legs wobbled slightly under her weight. "Thanks, Greer, really appreciate it," she muttered sarcastically. "Oh, don't mention it. Only hiked through the woods with a ton of food on my back. It was nothing."

"Has anybody ever told you that you talk to yourself far too often?" Devan began to rifle through her backpack, pulling out a hairbrush a moment later and brushing down her unruly curls. It didn't make much difference; they still flew out at all angles as though the tendrils were alive, reminding Greer of Medusa and the snakes that lived in place of her hair.

"If you're doing a runner, why did I bother with the spell—and why am I here now?"

She tossed the hairbrush onto her sleeping bag and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I need another spell, this time on myself. Can you do that?"

Greer hesitated, her expression doubtful as she weighed it up. "I can, but there is no guarantee of your safety. Properties are fixed locations. There are very little ways you can break a spell on them. People, bodies, are different, transient, especially if you're running. The smallest of changes in environment or circumstance can weaken the spell. If you have to leave, I can do everything I can to make sure the spell holds up while you're on the move, but I can't promise anything. The further you are from me, the less likely it is to stick."

Devan rolled her eyes, snuffing out a white candle that had burnt almost down to the wick on the windowsill beside her. "If you want me to stay so much, all you had to do was say."

"On second thought," Greer retorted, "I can. Off you pop."

"Look, I need to get out of this cabin. Can you help me or not?"

Greer frowned at the urgency in her voice. "What's the hurry? This place is safe; I made sure of it. I thought you were staying for a few more days."