MABEL
Mabel had come to expect some more Outlander nonsense, tirades of their boredom and lack of motivation to find something to entertain or occupy themselves. She grabbed hold of a book from the shelf, not bothering to read the cover, and tossed it towards him, expecting the man to be able to catch. “Yes,” and nothing more about her own life here – with Evelyn, with the rest of her brothers and sisters, with her parents – because almost all of them were gone. Played into their own foolishness, as this Arlo might’ve done.
Or not, since he didn’t seem very inclined to move.
Backing away from the remnants of the selection, none to her liking, she thought of her knitting needles, the yarn, things left unfinished. “Where are you from?” Curiosity for curiosity’s sake, striving not to place too much disdain into the question. It could be extensions of stories and tales; didn’t Outlanders like to speak of the worlds they left behind? The ones they’d never have again? Stuck here, with the rest of them, scratching at doors and wood, longing to go home?
His scoff earned another arched brow as she wandered a few paces away, thinking of finding a chair. “They pretend to be loved ones, friends, and family.” Maybe he didn’t have any here. Naught to trap him, to lure him out into the void. A smirk deepened on his last statement, the first remnants of a laugh floating through her chest. “Oh, they haven’t gotten me yet.”
Or not, since he didn’t seem very inclined to move.
Backing away from the remnants of the selection, none to her liking, she thought of her knitting needles, the yarn, things left unfinished. “Where are you from?” Curiosity for curiosity’s sake, striving not to place too much disdain into the question. It could be extensions of stories and tales; didn’t Outlanders like to speak of the worlds they left behind? The ones they’d never have again? Stuck here, with the rest of them, scratching at doors and wood, longing to go home?
His scoff earned another arched brow as she wandered a few paces away, thinking of finding a chair. “They pretend to be loved ones, friends, and family.” Maybe he didn’t have any here. Naught to trap him, to lure him out into the void. A smirk deepened on his last statement, the first remnants of a laugh floating through her chest. “Oh, they haven’t gotten me yet.”
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
