Come sit right here and sleep while I slip poison in your ear
Away from Torchline and back into the thresholds of home was enough to put Mabel thoroughly back at ease. Her shoulders were squared, her hands no longer gripping so tightly into balled up fists, and the notions of success in something started so long ago (perhaps even when she’d been dead), meant there could be measures taken. Ruminations not just drawn, but spun along in thwarting the rest of the world away.
Seen a compass – the emblazoning of an Order member simply disappearing after his siege of words and phrases. Mabel was only mildly disappointed her rocks and fruit hadn’t reached him. That he couldn’t be harmed, couldn’t be touched, that a coward’s way out of movement and motion had sent him scurrying. There’d be other opportunities. Other moments. She was certain.
But she was here to represent what she’d noticed, and would do so proudly, stepping in along the rest.
Seen a compass – the emblazoning of an Order member simply disappearing after his siege of words and phrases. Mabel was only mildly disappointed her rocks and fruit hadn’t reached him. That he couldn’t be harmed, couldn’t be touched, that a coward’s way out of movement and motion had sent him scurrying. There’d be other opportunities. Other moments. She was certain.
But she was here to represent what she’d noticed, and would do so proudly, stepping in along the rest.
MABEL