Wooden bow and arrow for adults

Redditors,
This is going to be a reach for the stars, but I need your help to identify this song….
It was a song on YouTube I found years ago that was atmospheric and without lyrics from what I recall.
The song begins with sounds of someone running with converse on maybe a boardwalk? Or a dock? Some kind of wooden plank floor with seagulls chirping in the distance. The person is running towards the microphone as his steps yet louder, then a piano sound cuts in. Two keys was being played alternately at the rate of his footsteps.
Then the song fills further with atmospheric tones and bright (wordless) vocals in the background. It’s hard to describe as there’s no discrete instruments that I can call out, but the sound begins to fill out and feel happy. I recall moments where there may have been bright piano chord note progressions.
I’m sorry I can’t remember much more folks, but I’m hoping someone can figure out what I’m talking about! Thanks so much.

for more context, no he's not a pedophile, he's a teacher and a non creepy nice guy who I talked about science & movies with when I met him yesterday, I am a teen girl so I know why she's worried but Mom insists that it's inappropriate for me to text an adult man but #1 swap the gender & she'd be fine with it🙄 #2 I already text other "adult man"s like MY school counselor and she trusts him #3 it was MY idea for the phone numbers just so i could show him a funny history video. Finally #4 I know the signs of creeps and a pedo so I'll certainly delete and block this guy if I see any of them.

my hamster is currently 2 years old in a 888 square feet enclosure, hes got everything he needs, a ton of wooden chew toys and those dog treat ones, a big wheel for him to run in, plenty of bedding, a ton of hides. but my hamster keeps going to this one spot in the far back corner of his cage, there is a platform there so he chews on the leg and the corner of the cage. not sure why he is picking that out of all things to chew on, if anyone has some tips on how to get him to stop or things i need to add to the cage?

I just started SH again, more seriously than ever.
I've never been able to convince myself to cut, as I'm too self conscious about others seeing me. But bruising and hurting myself in other ways has always worked.
I do martial arts, so it works perfectly. Punching the floor until I can't feel anything, hitting my shins with a solid wooden stick and scraping with it until the skin on my shins starts ripping. Using said stick to beat the shit out of my forearms and thighs. It hurts, but the rage I feel sometimes just can't be quelled through relaxing. And I've been taking my anger and sadness out on myself physically now.
A couple years ago I attempted suicide, and ever since then I've resorted to hurting myself instead. I feel like life has gotten better sometimes, but other times I just want to give up. Life is dull and the only thing that seems to excite me is pain. And now I've started doing SH again, the act of hurting myself disgusts me, but the pain I feel for days after feels great. The burning every time I shower, the jolt every time I touch an area.
My parents wouldn't even care either... that's the part that hurts most. They only care until it becomes an inconvenience for them.
What must I do to fix my head? I'm fucked up and I just want to stop feeling empty all the time...

A lot of places not yet open, but really, really nice addition to Cumming/Forsyth County. It appears to me to be mostly an "entertainment district" as opposed to a "lifestyle community" as there's no housing. (However there's parking for golf carts so I'm guessing there's going to be some housing built behind it). There's an amphitheater, interesting retail, restaurants, bars and a putt putt course. The anchor of it all appears to be Tin Cup restaurant/bar. The restaurant is huge - seating about 400-450 people on 3 levels with an outdoor patio on street level and a 3rd level. The lower and upper levels are not yet open. There will eventually be 5 bars including the airstream next to the putt putt course. The putt putt course is really big. According to the website many of the holes are replicas of holes around the world including Pebble and Augusta. (We saw a guy walking around with, I'm guessing his own putter.) $15 for adults/$7 for kids - this is all from memory so take it fwiw.
I'm guessing it's open carry because they have a lot of "bar like" seating overlooking the first greens of the putt putt course and the amphitheater.
Right now there's an upscale shaved ice place (think Strawberry Cheesecake ices) that was packed, a pizza place (doesn't look NY thin but thin crust from what I saw but plenty of ppl eating there and some carry out). An ice cream place, a health food place? with smoothies, etc. and a tea room. Looks like there's at least one brewery going in, another "anchor" on the opposite end of Tin Cup that's going to have live music and may just be a bar - not sure. So interesting places that aren't currently found in Forsyth.
We were able to find street parking but, again, not tons of places open at this point. They do have a parking deck and plenty of parking behind Central football field (with it looks like a police station being built in between the parking lot and the city center).
They have a "beer fest" coming up Father's Day weekend if anyone is interested in checking it out.

Our Bog is Dood
Our Bog is dood, our Bog is dood, They lisped in accents mild, But when I asked them to explain They grew a little wild. How do you know your Bog is dood My darling little child? We know because we wish it so That is enough, they cried, And straight within each infant eye Stood up the flame of pride, And if you do not think it so You shall be crucified. Then tell me, darling little ones, What's dood, suppose Bog is? Just what we think, the answer came, Just what we think it is. They bowed their heads. Our Bog is ours And we are wholly his. But when they raised them up again They had forgotten me Each one upon each other glared In pride and misery For what was dood, and what their Bog They never could agree. Oh sweet it was to leave them then, And sweeter not to see, And sweetest of all to walk alone Beside the encroaching sea, The sea that soon should drown them all, That never yet drowned me.

Same thing over and over. It just sucks. It’s just not worth it. Never gets better. Told myself it would every day and I have days where it does feel worth it and I’m happy for such a small second but those fleeting moments are so small and infrequent compared to the constant crushing despair that is being alive in this world. It makes me sad cuz I KNOW if someone from a third world or impoverished country could swap with me, they would in a heartbeat, and I wish I could give them my life. I wish so badly we could swap. I have a home and a job and creature comforts but I still hate living. I’ve been suicidal for as long as I can remember. I used to make my Barbie’s commit suicide as a little kid. I fantasized as a kid about dying cuz I got in trouble, then as a teen dying because I was the ugly chubby kid, never kissed, never dated, no friends, then as an adult because life is harder than I ever dreamed. I grew up poor and now it’s the same struggle but it’s me at the forefront and not my parents. Now I will do what they did until I die. Minus the children, of course, there’s no one in the world who could love me enough to want kids with me, or find me sexy enough for a one night stand. I’m so tired of being ugly. Even as an adult, I try so hard to eat right, consistently, go to bed at a decent hour, drink water, I have great hygiene and a special skincare routine, I even take supplements and vitamins! I work out 6 days a week and I… feel like I’m doing a good job and training intensely but am I? The body and performance dysmorphia is so bad… Im so tired of living? it’s like being sleepy but I can feel it deep in my chest. I won’t do it but goddamn does it sound nice

(TLDR; - Looking for a RPG game with open world, in-depth character customization, and a fantasy setting with decent or better graphics.)
I spend a lot of time playing RPG style games with an open world concept and in-depth character creation systems. I have played most of these to the point where it is just the same thing over and over, and looking for something new to tryout, regardless of if it is on Steam, Ubisoft, or self-published. I am open to both free to play and buy to play games, can be single player, multiplayer, or both.
Games I currently play or have played (to help eliminate suggestions that I have already tried):

• Black Desert Online
• Outward
• World of Warcraft
• Age of Conan: Unchained
• ArcheAge (both versions)
• AION
• RIFT
• Final Fantasy series (including Final Fantasy XIV)
• Albion Online
• Bless Unleashed
• Skyrim
• Fallout series
• Dragon's Dogma
• Elden Ring
• Forspoken
• Horizon: Zero Dawn
• Tomb Raider series
• Baldur's Gate 3
• Cyberpunk
• Greedfall
• Guild Wars and Guild Wars 2
• Hogwarts Legacy

What I am looking for:

• Open World with little to no loading screens
• In-depth character creation (preferably something similar to Black Desert's character creation system)
• Class or Classless system with magic, swords, and bows (and even guns in a fantasy setting)
• High Fantasy setting
• Decent or better graphics (I have a RTX 3060 ti and Ryzen 7 5800X 8-core 3.8Ghz with 32GB of DDR4 RAM)
• Preferred to have multiple races, with no gender-lock or race-lock for classes (if there is a class system).
• Reasonable Quest system, but having other ways to level up or gain skills and ability is preferred.
• PC Only, no console games (I do not own a console, and I play on Windows 10 Home).
• Can be free to play, buy to play, or free to download with subscription to play.
• Can be on Steam, Ubisoft, EA launcher, Xbox app with Gamepass, or standalone (self-published).

Any recommendations or suggestions would be greatly appreciated. I do have a few games already on my radar, but am looking for something I can play now versus waiting until these release (games like Nightingale, Atlas Fallen, and Pax Dei to name a few).

Is anyone available to duplicate some golem arrows and starlight shards for me? I need a ton for invasions. Would appreciate any help you van give.

I have been a pretty sweaty person my whole adult life, especially so after motherhood, I live in an extremely hot and humid country, sweating is a lifestyle for us.
Now I am definitely in perimenopause at least. But I still wonder if some the sweating incidents are hot flashes. So what does it feel like? I get times when I feel that my skin is cold yet I am sweating and hot inside.

Service guarantees citizenship
I'M DOING MY PART!
Would you like to know more?
This game just looks pretty sweet, I've always been of Starship Troopers as I'm pretty sure it was the very first DVD I purchased in my youth (along with a copy of Jin-roh & the SF Alpha movie, lol)
I have heard nothing but good things in every review I've seen thus far, now all that's left is to experience it for myself and draw my own conclusions/enjoy the game.
My group of gaming friends all gifted it to each other and as per usual I've been excluded from such inclusion (even tho I've bought games for everyone in my group multiple times, people act like I'm daddy warbucks even tho I'm unemployed.) It's frustrating that usually by the time I pick something up they've moved on to some other "new" thing because I waited too long. Most of them live overseas and make far more money than I do even when I was grinding 60 hours a week. It's really annoying because I showed my group (which includes my brother) this game and they were like OH COOL CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO PICK IT UP and then bought like 2 copies each so basically everyone besides me can play now. (they did this with the last EDF game as well, after I purchased keys for like 10 people for the EDF before that)
Ironically the only reason I'm unemployed is the same reason my brother still has a job (it's complicated, I got him a gig at my company, and then had to vacate my position because he would drag so much in the mornings that getting him to work every day was making me late consistently so I got the axe, nobody cares lol... I'll just sit on my butt and collect half my income instead of working 13 hours every day, at least for the next month or so before I reroll another vocation that will ultimately probably be another waste of my life, as is capitalism.
as I've recently lost my job so I don't have much disposable income for video games at the moment and generally speaking there's usually not much of anything I want to play/throw my money at most of the time anyways...
Currently just waiting on unemployment money to materialize which has taken a month longer than expected. It's annoying only because it seems as of late more stuff I actually want seems to be popping up right after losing my gig. Obviously I have to budget/prioritize real life over recreation, but it really sucks.
But this specific game looks like a gem/right up my alley in accordance to my interests and types of games I like to play, Looks like the IP holders saw the ST mod's for Squad & Operation HD and were like "let's do that better so we can monetize it" I'm ok with this, I've watched my brother and his Canadian friend play a bunch of it. It hits for me in terms of the stuff I like.
The reason I'm specifically requesting a gift card as opposed to the game (which I'll gladly take instead, save your penny) is because I have like... almost 600 steam trading cards that I want to flip on the steam community market.
However I haven't made a steam purchase on their own market exactly 1 year as of week or two ago.
Making it so I have to make another verified purchase with my own account on Steam to be able to flip my trading cards
(which I'm only doing to be able to buy some other old boomer shooters from my childhood/tween years)
I try to only ask for any particular game on here once, as making 10 threads begging for charity is tad overkill to me at this age. I appreciate your time reading this and possible consideration, or dismissal, respectively.
I understand any ask in life is a big ask when it's a form of charity; at least this is what I personally believe in my adult life in these chaotic times we're currently living in when nothing is certain. Any help in any form is a blessing, whether for something serious like necessities or just something recreational to distract from the mundane hardships of everyday life.
Here is my Steam profile
Here is the game I am requesting, or the funding to purchase it myself
I'll be back again when that neat looking RoboCop game comes out, Ashtar forbid I'm still unemployed that long... I'll be playing my steam games with free wifi from starbucks hiding in a soggy cardboard box.

Alright. So I am a 16 year old girl. I am bisexual. I have dated one girl. It went horribly. I was very attached. It lasted 4 months and resulted in 8 months of her stalking and harassing me after dumping me. I had no self esteem before but that somehow made it a lot worse. I don't think a day goes by where it doesn't cross my mind. It was upsetting and I want to throw up every time I think of the fact I trusted this person who then told her friends I was ugly and all this awful shit that resulted in a restraining order against her. (Which I didn’t want but multiple adults in my school district forced me to file because…yeah it was bad) Now here's the thing. When I was with her. It gave me some sort of meaning. I wanted to thrive in life for her. I wanted to wake up in the morning and improve for her. I wanted to be alive. For her. And I miss that. I don't miss her. But I miss feeling like I had something to wake up in the morning for. And I miss feeling in love, and having someone I could tell every little secret to. And someone I could kiss and be a little vulgar with. Not having to hide anything. I could provide something for her that she wanted. She always wanted physical affection and that was validating. She asked me out first too and practically begged me to give her a chance. Also validating. I want those things back. But I don't want to be vulnerable that way. I've been so bored every day and I feel like I'm running in circles trying to navigate a world with no meaning. Studies have shown people lose feelings of love after 1-3 years, which I find really depressing. I miss those feelings but the idea of being in a meaningless situationship or a placeholder is utterly repulsive. I know I'm young and my therapist said I shouldn't date after going through all that. But dear god I'm so bored and I wanna feel something. I want a reason to get up and I don't think ill ever love myself enough to live for me alone. I'm doing okay. I am getting a job, getting fit with exercise, getting my grades up. Improving myself. But. Feeling bored. I know it's wrong to date for validation but I don't really know what to do with myself if it's not for someone else. I have always existed for others it seems.
This probably sounds cringey to adults given my age but I’m just…ick
TLDR; Only 16, probably too young for dating. Had a bad dating experience. Lonely, feeling lost and bor without something I really care about. Miss the feeling of caring about something.

So this is my first time ever..writing something like this, and I know i’m probably going to regret this but, this happened all too recently. So, I (21M) recently got broken up with my now current ex (19F) because she suffered a bad high and started tripping but it lead her down a rabbit hole of whether this relationship is worth it; now let’s dial back to how this entire thing started. We were dating for over two years before the unexpected break up but I was an immature young adult who had no clue of how a relationship worked because of past relationships all ending up with me being cheated on or played or used or abused, on top of that, i was raised by a single parent who is arguably abusive and neglected me mentally speaking so i didnt know how to love per say. Then came this person who i learned how to love, and be happy. She is everything i can think of, and all i think about, i guess you can say i grew to deeply love and appreciate her. At first it wasnt present because i was scared and had my walls set up because i had a rational fear of getting hurt, but overtime, i set them down and she started seeing a different side of me, the only issue was, this was after i had cheated. Now before you all gather in a mob and wave the pitchforks, i never physically cheated, i never met the person and went to do the deeds with anybody, i never even sent nudes before to anybody, but i emotionally cheated. It started with casually flirting and eventually turned into me throwing around the acronym “Ily” or spell it out altogether. That wasnt fair and of course i got caught in the act for it, multiple times before..I had done it in total according to what she stated 4 times and with all of those i regret it til this day. I beat myself up and told her everytime she deserves better and i am deeply sorry for hurting her it wont happen again, and truth be told it didn’t. But of course as years went by, someone cannot simply forget those actions. On our two year anniversary, i purchased her a promise ring to solidify to myself and to her that i’m tired of hurting her and i want to prove and show that throughout everything, i will become a better man and change, which is true! I have been working on myself as well as starting therapy pretty soon, getting my life together. A week passes and she one day decided to go check the messages of my psn and she had seen messages i had with one of the four people i regrettably cheated on her with, but they weren’t as recent as this year no! they were old messages dating a year ago of me essentially begging the person to not block me; of course this angered her and she took a nap to think of her decision and thats when a week after giving the ring, she decided to break up with me, the first time. Now the first time wasnt all that bad because i did the pathetic thing and go to her house and beg for forgiveness and swear i love her and only her. It went well because she forgave and said she would be willing to try again, but it was my last chance. so i kept on my best behavior, and all of a sudden, two weeks later, after i spend some time at her house, i leave to head to work, and everything was fine, until she was smoking (weed) and it seemed to have been laced, now we are in the present, where all of my efforts are null..I love her greatly, but she is giving me the cold shoulder, but stated she does love me too, so what do i do?

Not sure if its working as intended or an oversight,but i just unlocked the hooligan combination and cant map it to specials. This is because it shares the same input as spiral arrow (qcf+H). I get that even in modern controls you can put some inputs manually, but wouldnt it make more sense if the special matched the same input as the “masters” default modern control? (As in its already down+sp normally for cammy, why not have it read as such in world tour instead of the manual input)
So what do you guys think? Oversight or unfortunate consequence for modern players?

Hey all, looking for a fun, intelligent slightly sarcastic chat buddy. It would be nice to find someone long term, and really get to know each other but not opposed to short term. I’m single no kids, fully adulting with the house and career. I enjoy gaming, I’m all over from FPS to building games. I can get down with a good 80’s movie, and some good music. I’ve also traveled a bunch mostly work and some pleasure. I really like indie rock, but can get down with whatever. I’d like to chat on anything besides reddits app lol it’s kinda buggy. I’d be open to voice or video, doesn’t bother me. I’m a mutt half white boy and Asian. https://imgur.com/9Ce8qxr

Said to me by my husband.
I'm 31, my entire life I thought I had autism. I have two people in my family that are, on the same side, and my family always treated them like they were incapable. It made me afraid of autism. When my aunt told my mother I was autistic, my mother completely freaked out. I'll always remember thinking to myself to try and be better, because I didn't want her to think I was autistic.
Over the past few months I've done a lot of research. I've taken a lot of tests. My doctor tells me I have social anxiety and and adhd - but the medications aren't changing me. And I don't know if I want to change. I like who I am, I like my differences. Recently I met someone at work that is very open about being autistic, and we've gotten along seamlessly. We share so many of the same interests, and for the first time in my life I feel safe to stim. It feels like a bone that's been tight for 31 years as finally been cracked.
My entire life I had issues being social. I'd cry when I had to go to school, holidays, everything. now, as an adult, I have very little social life. My husbands family is very involved with each other. They do dinners every weekend, big holidays. I've become distant. I try to be like them, and I try to not have these panic attacks, but I can't help it. I'll make any excuse to not go. Today I talked to my husband about it after my father in law called me yelling at me because I haven't been around. I told him, through tears, that I've always been this way. That at times I wish it was easier, and that the anxiety I feel can make me feel physically uncomfortable. He screamed at me and told me I'll always want to be alone, that he just wants a normal wife. I told him I wasn't doing this on purpose, that I thought I had autism and I think it's affecting the way I interact with people. As I cried he told me "oh is that your think of the week, autism?"
I had 76 days of sobriety from alcohol. It's gone now. I can't stop crying. I feel like I'll never be able to truly find comfort. That my life is a never-ending mask. I can't see a future where I can be myself, I can't see a future where people accept me. I'll always be seen as cold, distant, unfriendly. It's been a very, very hard day.

I apologize beforehand for complaining but I just walked out of a showing of the new Spiderman movie. I expect this behavior from kids, but when the majority of outbursts are coming from adults it becomes infuriating. We get it, this scene takes place from a previous marvel movie, your knowledge in marvel movies is amazing. I also love the people who think their commentary is necessary throughout the film.
The servers don’t appear to take any action with the noise complaints either. I mean, I get it. I used to work in the service industry as well, but it ruins the movie going experience altogether.
I’ve been a patron of the drafthouse for 10+ years, but it seems to have lost the appeal of what made it awesome to begin with. Again, I apologize if my post seems entitled, I’m just wanting to vent with the community and see if anyone shares my sentiment.

20 male btw.
I feel so insanely insecure about how stupidly behind i am from my peers. I feel like a 13 year old mentally. I even talk like one because I was such a pussy and I never learnt how to properly mask when i was growing up. If i just pushed through the bullying and the insane embarrassment and cringe i created whenever i opened my mouth, than maybe I would be living the life i want. Instead im stuck inside everyday, just studying the bare minimum to pass through college as i use my spare time to reminisce about all the missed opportunities in my life. Not only am i socially stunted, i was also made incredibly conventionally unattractive. The stress of aspergers made me start balding at 16. If i wasnt stupid i would have bought minoxidl and started at that age to stop it. Now its very late. I have been on minoxidl for a year and it has led to more hair loss than before. I am trying to lose weight but that doesnt change your facial attractiveness very much tbh, especially with a receding hairline. I wish i started this earlier. I hate seeing other guys getting their first jobs, getting money to buy their first cars, going to parties, studying in uni and getting into relationships whilst i am just starting to learn how to even make friends with a girl (i have never in my entire life made friends with a girl).
Is it my fault??? I really want friends but i hate social events. I want a gf, but i want it to be private so that no one knows we are in a relationship (coz im so embarrassed about how much people who know me will cringe seeing me in a relationship as they all used to make jokes about how funny it would be with me being in a relationship). People have gaslighted me into thinking i dont deserve love (lmao im so gullible and im such a pussy).
Its like they expect me to act like an adult but at the same time are cringed out when i try to. They expect me to find a gf and get a job, etc. but get cringed out and bully me and stop talking to me when i try to do these things. I cant stop hating myself thinking that all this is my fault and not my aspergers. I know that if an NT switched places with me they would legit starting hitting themsleves coz they have no idea what life is like for aspies (idgaf what anyone says in the comments NTs have it not just a little but a million times easier than we do).
SPOILER: i watched the new spiderman movie and i felt eerily similar to miles. Trying so hard to avoid his destiny. Avoid the upcoming catastrophe (for me which is seeing everyone else getting marreid and living happy adult lives whilst i struggle to talk to people even online). What happens is despite trying so hard to avoid his fate he ends up in teh place he was trying to avoid. Staring at the worst version of himself he always feared. This is what i feel like when i look at the mirror. I am right now the worst version of myself that i imagined when i was a kid and i think its my fault for not trying hard enough to overcome being unattractive and autistic and ethnic.

Please forgive me if I sound ignorant or rude. I’ve been studying Swedish culture as well as the language and, being from the US, a lot of Swedish customs are very puzzling to me. I understand the concept of fika but I find it difficult to believe that the population commonly eats pastries on a daily basis and most people aren’t morbidly obese, especially since I’ve heard that Sweden doesn’t have much of a gym culture.
Do people really eat cinnamon buns and things like that for fika every day or is this idea overblown for the food/tourism industry? Is it secretly common for people to eat plain salads or low calorie foods instead and the pastries thing is just a stereotype? Do Swedes take sugar and milk in their coffee during fikas when they eat pastries, or just black unsweetened coffee so it’s low calorie? Will people assume that you are strange or can’t afford to eat if you don’t order food for fika? If you have a heavier body weight, are you expected to not take fika as a matter of decency and restraint?
I would feel very embarrassed being seen eating pastries every day by my friends or colleagues. In the US, I’ve received comments from my coworkers about how I’ll get fat just from being seen eating a granola bar every day since they’re “basically candy bars.” Though we have a high rate of obesity in my country, people who only eat salad for lunch and don’t eat snacks are very highly thought of and praised everywhere, especially if they are also thin. I’m struggling to understand a culture where snacking is encouraged, especially with calorie-dense foods.
I apologize if this sounds like a “is it true that Americans only eat burgers and fried chicken” sort of question. I’m very fascinated by the idea of fika and want to know more. Part of why I’m uncertain is because it feels very strange and indulgent to me to have designated coffee/snack times for adults, when the jobs that I have worked had no obligation to even give us breaks and it’s encouraged to eat at your desk while working.

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Chapter 6 - From the Ashes
Winrow, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein, Year 991
She remembered the sounds of screaming. That day came to her in flashes of disjointed images and sensations. In one moment, there was the usual constant chill of the facility, and then in the next there was a burning heat spiraling outwards, climbing up the walls and dying the grey into red.
She remembered twisting shadows and contorted figures. Those magicians, distant and immoveable figures for so much of her life, collapsed to their knees and choked on smoke.
She remembered smaller figures writhing in the flames. A hand crushed beneath debris reaching towards her. A smoking corpse she couldn’t recognize.
She still wondered, sometimes, lying on the cot and staring up at the wooden ceiling, if it had been Tom or Ben. She would focus on the little details of the figure, laboring over the smoking limbs and the exact hunch of the shoulders. She never did know for certain.
She supposed it didn’t matter in the end.
—
Joan inhaled, tightening and loosening her grip on the tray of food she was carrying with her. Once she was done mentally preparing herself, she pushed back her shoulders, gripped the door handle, and turned it.
The door opened with a loud creak. Joan had decided to leave it unoiled on purpose; Amara never responded to knocks, so the least she could do was give a very obvious advance warning when she entered the room.
Joan plastered on a large smile, ignoring the numbness that had been growing on one side of her face, and stepped over to the figure seated on the bed. Amara didn’t even turn, her eyes fixed on the open window and the flowing curtains. It was a bright day, the towering white clouds drifting peacefully across a vast expanse of blue. The sight was particularly welcome after a week of non stop rain.
“Good morning,” Joan said in her most cheery voice. She set the tray down on a small table placed beside the cot. Slowly, Amara turned her head to stare at her. Joan swallowed.
Ever since Amara had woken up, she’d barely spoken or even acknowledged her surroundings. All her movements were dulled, as though she was wading through water, and Joan had yet to see any true reaction from her.
Even when she’d first quietly explained what had happened, that the building was gone and that there weren’t any other survivors, Amara had just listened quietly, perfectly still and unmoving. When Joan had finished speaking, all she’d said was, “Can I see the ruins?”
Joan hadn’t known how to respond to that. Part of her suspected she still hadn’t fully processed what had happened and seeing the destroyed building might provide closure, but she also had to be honest and tell Amara that she was in no condition to move. Amara hadn’t responded to that, but she would still ask, every now and then. Those were the only times she would speak without first being prompted. Besides that, she only ever answered in short, clipped sentences, never referring to Joan by name and never saying more than necessary.
When Joan had confided in Leila, the watchman had made a sympathetic noise and shaken her head. “Poor thing must be in shock,” she’d said.
It was the most obvious explanation and the one Joan had immediately jumped to as well. And yet, the longer she spent around her patient, the more she started to wonder if that initial assessment was wrong.
Despite how dulled her movements seemed and how little she spoke, Amara’s eyes never had the same look to them. Even when she stared off into the distance, there was a constant sharpness there, a hardness that seemed at odds with the rest of her behavior.
Even now, seated on the hospital cot, Amara studied her with that same uncanny perceptiveness, a gaze that always made Joan feel like she was being judged. She forced her own eyes to remain steady instead of darting away like her first instinct was. She briefly considered how absurd it was for her, a former Rose, to be intimidated by an injured patient who was probably half her age and barely old enough to no longer qualify as a “girl.”
Joan cleared her throat, the sound seeming to echo in the pervasive silence.
“How are you today?”
A silent stare was her only answer. Joan suppressed the urge to sigh, instead keeping her smile plastered on. She nodded at the tray of food and stood again.
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be right there doing work.”
Some time after Amara had woken up, Joan had gotten some neighbors to help her move a table into the patient room so that she could keep an eye on her while working. Amara hadn’t voiced any complaints about it, and it made Joan a little less uneasy, so she’d stuck with the system.
Joan settled down in her seat, squinting down at the stack of letters. She didn’t start reading, however, until she heard the familiar clink of silverware as Amara finally ate. Her shoulders slumped in relief, and she leaned over the table and began to work, ignoring the sensation of eyes on her back as she did so.
—
“You’re healing well,” Joan commented as she carefully inspected an unwrapped wound. She was sure to move slowly and with deliberate gestures, not missing the way Amara’s eyes followed her hands whenever she checked her injuries.
As Joan moved on to the next bandage, she once again considered how lucky Amara was to have survived the explosion. Though she hadn’t seen the building collapse herself, a few of the onlookers had told her that it was sudden and violent. “What do you think happened?” one of them had asked. Joan had told him that she didn’t know. Truthfully she suspected it had been an experiment gone wrong, but she hadn’t wanted to reveal Amara’s secret. As far as the other villagers were concerned, the building was just a lone orphanage that had suffered an unfortunate accident.
“Can I see the ruins?”
Joan frowned. “Not yet,” she said slowly. “Not until all your bones are healed.”
When she looked up again, Amara had turned her head away and was staring at the sky again. Joan sighed and continued the check up.
—
A knock sounded from down the hallway. Joan set down the shirt she was patching and stood with a frown.
“I’ll be right back,” she said before rising and hurrying to the door.
When she opened it, she found not another patient, but Leila still in her watchman uniform. She blinked at the woman, eyes briefly darting over to the basket she was carrying, then back up.
“Leila, it’s good to see you. What’re you doing here?”
“I was patrolling around the area and thought I’d stop by. Here.” She raised her hand and passed the basket over. Joan took it and peered down at its contents. Inside, she found various ripe fruits, some bright flowers that Leila must’ve gotten fresh from the florist, and a small pouch that, when opened, contained an array of glinting coins. Joan’s eyes widened.
“Leila, you didn’t have to—”
“They’re from the watchmen,” the other woman interrupted. She smiled. “I told them I was stopping by and they pooled together some money to help out.”
A warm feeling rose in Joan’s chest. She swallowed, carefully closing the pouch again and setting it back inside the basket beside a bright yellow blossom. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Please tell them thank you for me.”
Leila reached out a gloved hand and patted her shoulder. “After all the times you’ve had to heal us, this is the least we could do,” she joked. She glanced behind Joan at the hallway and lowered her voice. “Speaking of which, how’s she doing?”
“She’s healing well,” Joan said. “I estimate she’ll be able to walk around within the month.”
“You really do work miracles.” Leila shook her head and stepped back. “I ought to get back on patrol. Remember, if you ever need anything, you can ask me.” With a wave, the woman turned around and walked away.
Joan watched her retreating back, shaking her head with fondness before moving to close the door. Basket carefully balanced in her hands, Joan made her way back down the hallway and to the patient room.
“I’m sorry about that, Amara,” she said as she stepped through the doorway. “Leila visited and—”
Joan’s voice cut off.
The cot where Amara usually sat was empty, the wrinkled sheets haphazardly pulled aside. Joan’s eyes darted frantically around the room, landing on her desk table, where her sewing box was overturned, its contents spilled across the table, chair, and wooden ground. Fabric strips, threads, pins, cushions of needles.
And there, a few feet away from the desk, she could just barely make out the top of a head poking out from behind the bed.
The basket fell to the floor.
“No no no—”
Joan didn’t think, immediately sprinting towards the back of the room, cursing herself for being so stupid. Am I too late?
“Amara!” Joan called, stumbling as she leapt onto the cot and peered over in dread, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
There, seated on the ground with her back supported by the bed, sat Amara. She turned her head to face her, and Joan saw that in one hand she held a gleaming pair of scissors and in the other, a thick bundle of wavy hair that lay half scattered across the ground, blown around by the wind billowing into the room.
“You’re back,” Amara observed. Her gaze was as sharp and perceptive as ever.
Joan’s eyes rapidly scanned her, but there were no new injuries to make note of. The only change was her hair, which had been cropped short so that it sat in an uneven line below her chin.
All at once, the tension bled away and Joan slumped down.
“You cut your hair,” she said weakly. Her head throbbed, and she absentmindedly rubbed at it.
“Yeah.”
Joan released a long breath and slowly straightened. She closed her eyes for a moment, calming her rapid heart rate. When she spoke, she forced her voice to remain as still and calm as possible, though she couldn’t entirely mask the slight tremor in her voice.
“Amara, the next time you want to cut your hair or—or do anything, please tell me first. Please.”
Amara stared at her, quiet for a long time. She shifted her position, and for the first time since she’d woken up, something in her eyes changed.
“Okay,” she said.
—
It was a windy day. Joan shivered and pulled her cloak closer, but she didn’t remove her gaze from the figure walking just beside her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joan asked. Amara just nodded, not even turning to look her way, and Joan sighed and shook her head. She faced forward as well, eyes following the dirt path and remembering the last time she’d walked along it.
The closer they got to the ruins, the more Joan’s unease grew.
Amara had continued to heal at a rapid pace, and when she’d first started being able to walk around on her own, she constantly did so, moving with a silent, steady determination. The end result of that persistence had led them to their current situation, on the road to the ruins, Amara with only a few bandages left on her skin and walking by herself, albeit a bit slowly, and Joan, whose eyes kept darting over, watching for any reaction.
As far as she could tell, there were none. Amara moved with remarkable calm, shoulders relaxed and eyes steady.
Joan exhaled and kept walking. Ever since the scissors incident, as Joan had dubbed it in her head, Amara had started speaking more. She was still mostly quiet, but she seemed a little more engaged, more interested in her surroundings. She’d even requested Joan teach her how to read, after Joan had given her a tour of her little home and shown her the library. When Amara was sitting there quietly, listening as Joan taught her basic letters and spelling, Joan could almost tell herself that she was just an ordinary, curious young woman if not for the array of scars on her skin. Joan had tried to heal them, but form magic couldn’t alter colors, and so the marks still lingered.
That near normalcy, however, was where the doubts had begun. Initially she’d assumed Amara wanted to see the ruins to give her closure so that she could move on, but what if it had the opposite effect? Joan wasn’t a fool, she knew Amara’s behavior was in no way normal. She had to be repressing things, or perhaps the truth hadn’t really settled yet. What if seeing the ruins caused her to break down?
The longer they walked, the more the doubts grew. Joan quickly became lost in her thoughts, so much so that she didn’t immediately notice when they stopped walking
“Which way?”
Joan blinked and looked up, seeing that they’d reached a familiar fork in the road. Her heart sank and she swallowed. “Left,” she said, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. “It… it’s just past that hill.”
Amara nodded and turned without hesitation, slowly making her way up the slight incline in a steady rhythm. Another breeze blew past them, carrying scattered tree leaves with it. Joan watched Amara reach the hill top and begin descending until she’d disappeared from view.
Joan stared at the path, limbs suddenly heavy. She tightened her grip on her cloak.
“Get it together,” she muttered. There was no reason for her to be so nervous, she told herself. It was absurd, after all the things she’d already seen throughout her life. But Amara had an uncanny ability to make her feel like a lost child again, someone completely out of her depth.
Joan waited a little longer, listening for any sounds, but there were none besides the wind and rustling flora surrounding them. And so, after a deep breath, Joan lowered her head and made her way over the hill.
When she looked up again, the ruins were in sight. She slowed her pace as she approached.
Where once a simple sturdy grey building had stood, there now lay a pile of debris. Only the bottom sections of the buildings remained standing, jutting out from the ground like broken blades. Charred, splintered wood lay strewn about the grass, and large chunks of shattered stone formed crude boulders.
Surrounding the ruins, colorful blossoms grew in bright patches. Originally someone had suggested burying the bodies—at least the ones they’d been able to recover—there. But Joan had shuddered at the thought of forcing the experiment victims to rest eternally near the broken facility, so she’d requested they move them to Winrow’s graveyard instead. Thankfully people hadn’t questioned her, though the move in the burial site hadn’t stopped people from planting flowers around the area as a memorial.
Joan’s eyes scanned the ruins, finally landing on a single figure standing just in front of the collapsed building. Slowly, Joan approached until she was a few feet away, her footsteps crunching as she stepped over debris.
Amara’s back was turned to her. She didn’t move, simply standing there staring at the destruction before her. The wind blew her now short wavy hair against her neck, and her cloak billowed. The movement caught Joan’s eye, and she caught a glimpse of Amara’s hands hanging at her sides, balled into tight fists that shook barely perceptibly.
Joan opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. Hesitant, she took another step forward.
And then, all at once, the trembling stopped. Slowly, Amara’s fingers loosened, uncurling themselves until they hung limply at her sides. She raised her head, lifting her face towards the deep blue sky. Joan saw her whole body breathe as another wind blew past them, as though she was trying to fill her lungs with as much air as possible.
A few seconds passed, and Amara’s shoulders fell as she exhaled. Her head lowered back down to eye level, and slowly, she turned around.
Strands of hair lay strewn haphazardly against her face, mussed and twisted by the wind. Her posture was perfectly relaxed and casual, not a trace of tension in sight. The scars running up her arms seemed almost to move in the shifting shadows cast by her cloak. Her sharp eyes, a bright green that gleamed in the sunlight, were piercing.
But what caught Joan’s attention the most was her smile. It was bright, unreadable, and utterly unfamiliar.
“Joan,” Amara said, voice calm. “Let’s go back.”
​
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