I went to explore last night while Husband was on bouncer shift. He insisted I take "flashlights" with me, and I am glad he did. Eorzea never got completely dark, but this world comes closer. The stars are bright and clear when there are no clouds, but the land below is very dark, and the stars do not give enough light for me to read my journal's map.

With a flashlight, and making slow progress, I was able to map land south of Wyatt. I found nodes we should try on our next camping trip. The texture of the land is similar to where we have found tin in Eorzea.

I made sweeps of the land to thoroughly map it, then turned off my light and lay back on the goobbue's head. I studied stars as an Astrologian, but mostly certain constellations that related to my skills. Those constellations are not in this world. I need to try my skills under this sky.

But it was peaceful, and quiet, and pretty, up in the air above the trees and under the stars. There has been so much peace since coming here. There is the peace in Husband's arms. There is the "zen-like" peace of working on the shed. There is the simple peace of making a hundred pretzels. And there was the peace in the sky.

When I came to Limsa I only really knew peace. Since then I saw many kinds of war.

Everyone who is not a leader knows war is bad. People die, homes are destroyed, families are damaged, land is ruined. But people who do enough fighting, while they know war is bad, also know that fighting is something they can do. It becomes a part of them. A part of us. A part of me.

It is as natural for me to draw my sword or book as it is to draw my hatchet or needle. Yet I have drawn neither sword nor book since coming here. And while I do not truly wish to look for people to kill, I wonder about this part of me I have not used.

Perhaps I should return to hunting. Deer are so easy to kill that it is more like gathering than battle. Other creatures, then? I passed over a fenced field that had large dark shapes that could be beastkin. If they respawn, their keeper would not miss them.

Husband could perhaps have told me what all those stars I was seeing were. I must remember to ask him why a lot of stars seem clustered together in a long cloud. It is surely the sort of thing people would notice and study and add names to. I could have headed back to Wyatt right then and asked him, but I was content for the moment to lie in the sky.

What if I fell asleep there? What would people think waking up to the sight of a goobbue floating in the morning sky?

I did not fall asleep. I was too torn to sleep. I was compelled to simply lay there and soak in the peace, but I was also restless, wanting to do something with my hands. It annoyed me then, it annoys me now, that I cannot settle on one or the other. There should be the stillness Husband talked about before.

I do not know how long I did lie there, but in time I gave up and Returned to Wyatt. I walked to the Pit but did not go in. I let my restlessness draw me to the shed.

Perhaps I could have done carpentry. I did not. I took out a camp lantern, set it up near what Husband called the door panel leaning against the shed, and contemplated the woodwork.

Husband wants the shed to be built. I agree that it should be built, but it was not what I wanted right then.

A sword is awkward against a flat surface. An axe would be too easy. A lance might get stuck. A bow would be too slow. Fire would be too extreme. A water cannon would be more messy than effective. And I wanted action, movement.

I shifted to Dancer. I brought up my rings.

BAMBAM

Cascade. Twist clockwise, rings flung parallel to the ground, one after the other. The rings slammed into the wood and bounced back to me.

BAMBAM

Fountain. Twist counterclockwise and fling.

BAM BAM

Fountainfall. Spin in a wheel, fling overhand with full force.

BAM

Reverse cascade. Throw both rings together underhand.

BAMBAM BAMBAM BAM BAM BAM

I let my mind go blank as I flowed into the combo. It was motion. It was force. It was violence. It was freedom.

It was also loud. Husband and Sam came out to see what I was doing. I did not know if Husband would be angry at me for damaging his door panel. I did not know what I would do with an angry Husband. We have not truly fought since I knocked him out with my book. A part of me wanted to see what would happen.

What happened was that he accepted me. He put his arms around me and we talked about it. He stood aside and asked me to demonstrate for Sam. I do not think he forgave me, because I do not think he blamed me, though I will be helping him make a new panel. He walked home with me holding my hand.

When we got home he kissed me, he massaged me, and he held me in bed. He was not angry, nor was he joyous. He was accepting of his wife who damaged his door panel simply because she felt the need to do so.

It felt wonderful. It was another kind of peace. One I could fall asleep to.