"Elijaaah," Rowan sing-songs, her voice echoing through the hallway as she steps over the threshold, nudging the door closed behind her with her foot. She's clutching her hand to her chest, knuckles bruised blue and purple and wrist swollen. It's not so bad, she thinks, and if it wasn't for the fact that she can't actually move her wrist without a sharp pain shooting up her arm she wouldn't be here; she'd save herself from another lecture.

Walking further into the shop, her green eyes scan the place, searching for the all too familiar face she's here to see, again.

"Where are you hiding, my man?" she asks, sticking her head around a corner and peeking into the nearest room. When she spots him sitting inside, her lips curl into a grin. She leans into the doorframe, waving her injured arm left and right.

"Got a job for you."

elijah gardner