i need a cold glass of water + p, ophelia

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]For once, it seemed that Ophelia was actually home. Despite all of her grievances with sticking in one place for long, with being idle, she hadn't been milling around as much as she normally would as of late. She blamed most of that on her injury, on her desire to recover from it as quickly as possible, but she knew in her heart that there was something deeper to it. She just didn't feel... right. She hadn't since she'd gotten back. Her wings ached, but more than that her very soul ached. It shouldn't be like this; she shouldn't be thinking so deeply on such a small thing. Everyone got hurt, and she never blamed them for their injuries. Herself, though? She could blame herself for her inadequacy all she pleased.

She tried to keep herself distracted, despite that. She went out to hunt a few times, came back feeling a little better. She cooked, cleaned, and worked on making her home more hers. The living area was much more organized, and she had snatched a few history books to put up on shelves, all in alphabetical order. The distractions were good, took up a lot of her time despite being things she normally wouldn't devote so much thought to. Her home looked and smelled nice, the former disarray of the old house carefully hidden behind all the work she'd done.

The cleanliness of it helped to ease the pangs of discontent in her heart, if only for a little while.

It was only just starting to get late, and she had a small fire going, a bird stuck through a stick above it to roast. It wasn't exactly a big meal, but it would be enough to satiate her. It wasn't like she didn't have food, anyway. With the amount of cooking she'd gotten done, it would be a while before her supply ran low. The aroma of cooked meat and the soft crackle of the fire were the only sounds to permeate the otherwise silent atmosphere. At least, that was until there was a rattle at her door.

Ears immediately perked, she looked up from where she had been watching the flames flicker. It took her only a moment to realize the underside of her meal was starting to get just a little bit too crispy. "Oh, dear. Oh-" she cut off her mutterings, calling out a louder, "One moment!" Quickly, she poured some of the water she'd been saving for this moment into the fire pit, successfully dousing the flames, and fanned her working wing to try to make sure the leftover smoke went up the pipes to the outside world as they should.

With that done, she quickly wiped off her paws with a ratty towel before rushing to the door, opening it without bothering to check first to see who was outside.

"Oh! Hello, Leroy." she greeted, eyes immediately softening as they focused on him. He looked a little worse for wear, rough around the edges in a way she didn't think she'd seen him before. It made her just a little worried, that same protective spark that normally resided under the surface of her skin rising up once again. "Come in. Would you like some water? Something to eat? The food has just finished, but if you don't like quail I can provide something else for you."