on the digestive nature of tangleweeds

OIA'I'O

and i asked myself about the present:

say] “I thought you said you couldn’t feel it.” You counter flatly. Then, you remember what Kai has told you time and time again about turns of phrases, and you wonder if this is an instance of it. Nodding, you write down venom, the word not at all accompanied by the flare of panic it should be.

Glancing up with a studious expression as Kai nears, you move to allow him whatever space he and this new specimen require. Several bits of stone and wheat fall away from you, but you hardly notice, so focused on the bundle (amalgam?) intertwined around your brother’s arm. Were you the frowning type, this would have been an opportune moment for one. Instead, you merely tap your quill against the page. “Freeze.” You say, and so it does. You aren’t strong enough to freeze Kai in time, so eventually sensation should return to his fingers—you just hope that he doesn’t squirm and ruin the results.

“Do you see anything?” You ask, meaning that now that it isn’t eating you anymore, do you see anything worth noting?

how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep