Come sit right here and sleep while I slip poison in your ear
The response was just as vague, as if they were speaking in circles and rhymes, nothing and everything all at once. You did well curled upon her and that was something she’d very rarely heard, taken aback, nearly loosening the prey in her talons.
Except it didn’t matter either – because then there was a blinding whirl, a suffocating thrall, and the youth couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain what was happening. Maybe she was drowning again, mid-flight and suddenly exhausted, and her wings shot outwards, desperately clinging to some aspect of life. They pummeled and swung forward, striving to gain access to the air again, but she was still being pulled down, down, down –
And then there was nothing but fear holding her hostage. Waiting for that doom and gloom to strike once more. Waiting to settle into the Voice’s world as another wayward, lost soul, come to roost far too soon.
Except then – there was only color, and rolling hills below her gilded feet, and the apparent confusion riddling her senses. Aamu? She questioned, looking, glancing, until finding the dragon in the piercing night. She’d lost the blink hare at some point, but didn’t bother questioning it. It’s okay. Mabel didn’t know who she was reassuring at that point.
Graves. Graves and graves and graves rolling through hills, and it seemed they hadn’t stranded or strayed far at all. What happened?
Except it didn’t matter either – because then there was a blinding whirl, a suffocating thrall, and the youth couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain what was happening. Maybe she was drowning again, mid-flight and suddenly exhausted, and her wings shot outwards, desperately clinging to some aspect of life. They pummeled and swung forward, striving to gain access to the air again, but she was still being pulled down, down, down –
And then there was nothing but fear holding her hostage. Waiting for that doom and gloom to strike once more. Waiting to settle into the Voice’s world as another wayward, lost soul, come to roost far too soon.
Except then – there was only color, and rolling hills below her gilded feet, and the apparent confusion riddling her senses. Aamu? She questioned, looking, glancing, until finding the dragon in the piercing night. She’d lost the blink hare at some point, but didn’t bother questioning it. It’s okay. Mabel didn’t know who she was reassuring at that point.
Graves. Graves and graves and graves rolling through hills, and it seemed they hadn’t stranded or strayed far at all. What happened?
MABEL
