i imagine she goes to his grave fairly often: to play, or to read, or just sit and chatter with the headstone like any old friend. (the watchful eyes of her mother and her mother's palisman are never too far away, though.)

also thank you, the details of this "simple sketch" nearly killed me

forever dying on the hill that caleb took evelyn's last name + wittebaby was a girl

the way caleb's death becomes so much worse in timelines where he lived long enough to be a parent... how the grief and horror and pain runs like poison down the bloodline, a salted wound that never heals... i think about it a lot

thank you <3
evelyn clawthorne is my precious little woobie who has suffered more than jesus

for now, sorrow covers the house of clawthorne. (4) (end)

for now she hides away in the house of her father, a healer, who warned her away from caleb in life but would give anything to bring him back, to erase this grief for his daughter... and his granddaughter. she will bear the name of clawthorne, as caleb did, and carry it on for generations. (3)

brought on early labor, and then a fragile but persistent little baby with pale hair and dark eyes. eventually evelyn will recover enough to go outside again, eventually she will call in enough favors to curse the name of philip wittebane away from every town he enters. (2)

evelyn's hair has completely deflated from grief. she eats only when she's reminded to, for the sake of the baby in that wooden cradle who never leaves her sight. she would have killed philip if she could, if the stress of seeing her husband murdered right in front of her eyes hadn't (1)

spiritually this feels similar to when i figured out that punnett squares basically work like deviantart shipping grids (this helped me pass the GED test)

I have the same problem. I went to a local con alone, headphones on, and only lasted about 45 minutes before my social battery went kaput. It makes me sad because conventions seem like so much fun