it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of -

MABEL

An opportunity unraveled, unveiled, unfurled from the despondency, and Mabel was still, silent, in its grasp. For a child who’d always strived to help, no matter how dire the situation had been on their farm, who’d always strived to institute some degree of thought, scheming, calculating, or otherwise, this was a notion she could sink her teeth into. She and Evelyn could institute action, rather than sit back and watch everything fall apart, their words soundless echoes against the derision of parents, against the foul decisions of Old God nooses. Her fingers had long since ceased their knitting, enraptured with the chance to sneak, manipulate, and deceive. “We can try.” No promises, vows, or assurances that their attempts would work, because even if she’d been on earth for a short amount of time, she’d known better than to harpoon false bravado into the air. Instead, the Wraith would receive a nod, a confirmation, a sliding of her machinations rolling around a duplicitous skull.

Then she rounded her gaze back towards Wessex, the knitting needles placed firmly and soundly in her lap; inquisition resting heavily on her teeth. “What are you going to do?” Partially curious to see if the twins were to be trusted with pertinent information (or shoved off to the side, only privy to their outlined notes), and other precisions in this outfitted hellhole. What other steps would be taken into the fold?

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out