(( I figure I might as well makes this a place for her short stories/RP things to keep it organized, as well as actual journal entries, if that’s ok))
Wallaroo turned over on her bed so she could face the little guildstone resting on the little table by her pillow. A smile not often seen on the pandaren’s face these days suddenly appeared, appeased and comforted by the sight of the flickering rock.
This one was new, given to her soon after she’d arrived in Westgarde, but the old, broken one, still wrapped in the shattered Arrakoa’s wire, lay clutched in her hand, now dangling from a chain around her neck. She was never without it. She couldn’t be. When someone had suggested disposing of it Wallaroo had broken down in tears, and tears again appeared at the memory of the incident. She knew it must not be normal to act in such a way, and she knew the newer guildstone worked very well, but the terrible fear of being without communication, of being lost and alone, seemed to surge like an angry dragon each time the broken stone was not in near contact. Even now the new one had it’s place in her fragile state, and she didn’t like being without either of them.
The old stone lay almost without life in her paw, save for the occasional, random flicker of shorted out magic. The new one was full of activity tonight, and the voices were…soothing.
“Did he just…”
“I’ll have the…and reports…in…”
The voices criss crossed over each other slightly, a faint babble of channels and colourful language. Wallaroo’s tears eased once more, and the smile reappeared, and she closed her eyes, feeling safe, at least for this moment.