MABEL
The waves only heightened the state of ignorance – dropped into an open terrain full of nothing she’d ever experienced or understood. She didn’t know this Nate. She didn’t know many other fellow Ascended – save for the few at LongNight, her sister, or the Wraith. She didn’t know about monsoons and their potential for disaster. She didn’t know anything about the world except for the Hollowed Grounds – and perhaps it remained a poor example of what could, or couldn’t be, out in these reaches and fathoms.
Mabel couldn’t respond to the wide smiles, to the nature of complete comfort out here – longing for the wilderness she knew and understood, but comprehending she couldn’t stay there for eternity, locked away behind blades of grass and Spire shadows. To reach out, to stretch along voids and encompass everything there was to savor, offer, and relish –
His words conjured a nod, but then the other ones, about biting, made her stiffen, head turning directly to the sea again. Another notion and note of inexperience. She and Evelyn had merely gone to shrines, quenching their thirst – had yet to bare her fangs over anyone’s flesh. To snag at their skin, to take and take and take, powers, nourishment, and any other extreme embedded in there. “I haven’t bitten anyone yet.” Loosening a shrug, twisting and turning the parasol in her fingers, so it glided above her head; striving to enact confidence when the only emotion left in her soul was apprehension. “I’ll be fine.”
Mabel couldn’t respond to the wide smiles, to the nature of complete comfort out here – longing for the wilderness she knew and understood, but comprehending she couldn’t stay there for eternity, locked away behind blades of grass and Spire shadows. To reach out, to stretch along voids and encompass everything there was to savor, offer, and relish –
His words conjured a nod, but then the other ones, about biting, made her stiffen, head turning directly to the sea again. Another notion and note of inexperience. She and Evelyn had merely gone to shrines, quenching their thirst – had yet to bare her fangs over anyone’s flesh. To snag at their skin, to take and take and take, powers, nourishment, and any other extreme embedded in there. “I haven’t bitten anyone yet.” Loosening a shrug, twisting and turning the parasol in her fingers, so it glided above her head; striving to enact confidence when the only emotion left in her soul was apprehension. “I’ll be fine.”
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
