Post by Donna Jordan on Oct 3, 2011 19:37:52 GMT -6
Donna Jordan was in an exceptionally good mood. It wasn't exceptional in the sense that she wasn't happy often, but rather in the sense that today, she was brimming over with happiness. Nothing special had happened, which added in part to the exceptional-ness of the mood, except that the sun had come up over Lyon in a perfect pinky-gold hue and the dawn clouds were like sweet cotton candy stretched across the sky. Donna had been up long before dawn and so had been able to watch the slow ascent of the sun from the horizon line to where it hung now at its zenith, idly looking down on the world.
She had ordered tea, too, for the first time in a while. Her nomadic way of living didn't provide enough income for little pleasures like that, but someone had been nice to her the other day. Now, wandering in the overgrown park that once was had clearly been the pride of the neighborhood, Donna sipped her drink and skipped a pebble playfully over the pond.
Humans were hard to come by in the world now, but that didn't mean that they couldn't enjoy themselves. She was all for work and perseverance -- Donna had nearly earned a doctorate in three years less time than most people did -- but relaxation and fun were important, too. If all the humans in the world who remained just lived a miserable life, always running, always hiding, then it was just as if there weren't any humans left. A miserable life was a very bad one.
Donna knew from experience.
Confident that there was no one dangerous around, and that, if someone did approach, she'd be able to hear the fallen leaves crackling under their feet long before they snuck up on her, Donna unzipped the heavy trench coat she wore. Biting the fingers of her gloves and yanking them off her hands, she folded them neatly and stowed them in the front pocket of her coat. Keeping as much of her skin covered as possible was important, at least in her mind, because it disguised her scent. How well that actually worked Donna was unsure, but she had been doing it steadily ever since leaving Poland, and it hadn't failed her yet.
It was nice to have her hands free once in a while, though. Likewise, she kicked off her loose sneakers, stepped out of her too-big socks, and dug her toes into the grass. Such a human thing to do, she knew, but she loved it. She loved every bit about being human; she even wished sometimes she weren't an empath. Her powers had so many advantages but just as many disadvantages: people respected her or turned her away, for one. There was little in-between for her fellow humans. And no matter how much she protested, Donna often couldn't convince people to change their minds.
Suddenly, she yawned. Sometime just after midnight she had been awoken by the cry of a wolf -- or, more likely, a werewolf -- and she hadn't gone back to sleep. Instead, she'd written in her diary, a small journal with a checkered cover that she took with her. Donna pulled it out. It was her third one and less than half full, each page with lines and lines of bad poetry and anecdotes from her hectic life. Slowly flipping the pages, the human walked over to a large oak tree that had somehow escaped destruction, leaned against it, and started to read. While she tried to keep her attention on her surrounding, she wasn't the most experienced refugee and was failing in her task as her notebook drew all her attention.
NOTES : T_T meh sorry it's bad
LYRICS USED : use somebody -- kings of leon
LISTENING TO : violet hill by coldplay
TAGGED : emilia
CREDIT : zomg ! its rora ! of caution 2.0