don't think too hard about it // roxanne, tarot cards

[ROSEMARY]

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Rain tapped on the treehouse’s roof like little rat paws. On mornings like today—despite how common they were for the Typhoon’s tropical island home, or, perhaps, because they were so common—the ocelot preferred to stay indoors away from the wet mess. She considered her treehouse a little island in the storm, a dry oasis filled with warm candelights, plenty of soft cushions, and the smell of old books. The hermit, when she drifted into one of her moods, had often spent entire weeks sequestered in her treehouse home, never stepping paw on the ground below. Not even to hunt.

As the ocelot stirred honey into her cup of tea, she grimaced at the thought of her growing responsibilities. Why did Roan have to disappear? She appreciated how her nephew took on all the busywork of healing she hated, including living in the temple to watch over fidgety patients and randomly awaken to tend to another's traumas. And she should be in the temple, even now, should've stayed the night, but she preferred her little quiet space. The sage and chamomile tea was still warm, and it would be a shame to leave now, wasting a perfectly good pitcher of tea. She sighed into a paw, tapped the spoon telekinetically against the cup, inhaled the delicate aroma, glanced at her Tarot card reading—

The door squeaked open. The rain had faded down to a drizzle, but she heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Perhaps it was the wind? Or the door simply needed to be replaced, she supposed. Regardless, she'd experienced too coincidences of the door opening right before a visitor appeared, and so Rosemary frowned and supposed her tea wouldn't save her from social interaction.

Rosemary sighed, forked tail flicking, and hoped her visitor wouldn't be too much of a stressor. Her smaller pair of eyes glanced at the Tarot cards, and she neatly slipped her personal reading back into the deck. When her visitor arrives, the door will be half-open, as though Roxanne herself had been anticipated.

Rosemary telekinetically shuffled her Tarot deck and poured herself a refill of tea as she waited.

[member=901]ROXANNE R.[/member]

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PEACEFALL

peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night