Querencia
(n.) a place from which ones strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you feel your most authentic self.
𑁍 ~ 𑁍 ~ 𑁍
Then suddenly, she had realized why she felt so different and why her thoughts became so misma...
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It's been weeks since I wrote in my journal. Mostly because of Ms.Grimshaw has been on my ass more often lately. Chores. Chores. Chores. That's all I've been doing lately, which has been a drag. But at least I still find time to draw with little Jack. He surprisedly has been improving with his art skills, which was delightful. I haven't seen Arthur or Javier much around lately. Which means there's a high possibility that Ms.Grimshaw isn't only on my ass about things. Dutch seems better, and has been thinking a little clearer now. At least, that's what Arthur had told me from last time I saw him. Which is good, I guess? Forget that. I'm just glad everything worked out in the end. And let's hope it only continues to do so...
Abby finishes writing hey journal, tucking it away under the bedroll, before walking toward the camps 'kitchen'. Nearing the washing station, she stops to watch Micah and Bill antagonize the O'driscoll tied up to the tree. Sure—it was fun, at first. But now, she only began to feel bad.
As the two men walk away consumed by laughter, she finds herself walking toward Kieran. "M-Miss could you help me with something?" The man stutters out, despair evident.
"With what? Untying you? Letting you go free?" Abby sarcastically asks the man.
"Yes, well N-No just... I need some water." He explains. Abby lets sigh out in response, before grabbing clean cup from a random box nearby.
"You know... I don't think you're that bad of a man." She trails out, filling the cup with some water from the bucket nearby.
"You don't?"
"No." She states, crouching down to assist him. The man takes a few big heapings from the cup, before it goes empty.
"Not only have I've seen bad men; I've met them. They've got evil eyes. And I don't see them in you." She explains, placing the cup to the side, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention.
"T-Then maybe you could—"
"I have no say in the matter. And even if I did, they wont listen. You worked with Colm, mister. And that's just enough to kill you." Abby tell him, before scouting off for Mr. Pearson. Who happened to be sleeping in his tent. She also spits Arthur, who tended to his horse nearby. It was as if he was getting ready to ride off somewhere.
She re-routes, practically running toward his direction. "You heading over to Valentine?" She asks, grabbing ahold of his horses reins.
"Yes?" He asks in question, taking note of in his little sister's distressed expression. "Could I tag along? I can't deal with Ms. Grimshaw bossing me around anymore."
Arthur liked the idea of his sister remaining in camp. It gave him a sense of peace. As he could always count on Ms. Grimshaw in never letting his sister sneak off into trouble. But he also felt pity, knowing all too well of how tiresome the camp could become.
