travelers traveling and on, like the wheel that will take you home

Although everything has taken a slower turn as of late, gradually, Sookie's starting to feel that she's reclaiming her life at last. Certain decisions have come less easily than others— while the Council nominees collected signatures, she felt a slight pang of loss, irrational though it was to be so attached to a position she only held for a year, no more. She's lucked out this week with the Island Radio, the normally empty Thursday evening filled with an impromptu music show held by one James Ford, full of oldies and country, and with a small Pomeranian randomly having joined her that evening for an hour or two, the spontaneous dance party certainly helped her relax into a deep sleep that evening. Waking up, the sun hanging overhead was enough of an impetus to push Sookie out of bed, and she stepped out feeling freer than she'd been in weeks.

Ready to start again.

There are a few perks to being in the Council offices, she has to admit to herself. And while normally, she'd never use them for her own purposes, she doesn't think anyone will much mind if she looks for a certain address, thumbing quickly through the latest maps before she takes off in the direction of someone she's wanted to see, ever since that evening at the Winchester. The morning hasn't hit noon yet when she knocks on the door, feeling her heart flutter in her chest directly after. She hopes this isn't a mistake.

"Anyone home?" she calls out, hopeful.