You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it
It was unpleasant, just as Maea said. She watched the void touched spider try and decimate the sweetgrass. Nothing happened to the sweetgrass other than some transfer of violent purple hues, and Ellyra couldn't quite tell if that was a transfer of void-disease (was it disease? Infiltration? She didn't really know a better word for it) or rather the spider's own life fluids coming out in its fervor. It smacked against the glass with ferocity, trying to escape now that the sweetgrass was mostly ripped from its dirt clod.
The lioness could feel her inner discomfort growing and it was plain on her face. She couldn't hide it. She never was one of those talented in masking, anyway (unless it was flirtations, or innocence, as before with the architect). Stepping next to Edmund, she asked, "What is happening in your tank?"
Ellyra examines her spider who just wants to heck stuff up, and asks Edmund how his experimenti s going.
The lioness could feel her inner discomfort growing and it was plain on her face. She couldn't hide it. She never was one of those talented in masking, anyway (unless it was flirtations, or innocence, as before with the architect). Stepping next to Edmund, she asked, "What is happening in your tank?"
Ellyra examines her spider who just wants to heck stuff up, and asks Edmund how his experimenti s going.
Ellyra
