MABEL
“Maybe they’re burial mounds. Maybe they’re monsters lurking underneath.” She shrugged off both; uncertain whether she should care or not. Her heart wasn’t into tampering with them – mere investigation for her sister reigning supreme, and even now, the notions of Evelyn being here were dim. Her steps remained light, airy, vestiges of phantoms though, pressing into the snow, the sullen reticence gliding into her path, into her ether, a scowl marking its way through her brows at his next proclamation. “I’m not here for anyone else.” Which may or may not have been true – but it was for the moment.
She didn’t care. She couldn’t.
The notion of no one being left for her to be good for them cut and slash deep, and her fists clenched. There was half a semblance, a thought, to beat the man beside her bloody, until she didn’t feel so empty, until the hollowed figments weren’t like wandering vessels, and she wasn’t a piece of maneuvering abominations.
For the moment she simply walked, walked, and walked, like she could’ve until she’d reached the ends of the earth. Until she was forced to cease, to desist, when he crossed into her path – and her predacious eyes narrowed, a snarl fixed on her mouth. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to linger in the spaces of those possibilities. A hiss threatened through her lips, and only stilled when a chord in his phrases cut through her – a tilting of her head followed, thoughts striving over the melancholy. “What do you mean, just appeared? For how long?” Timelines might have had no concept now, but she knew when she’d been sent out across the waves. “Longheat. I died in Longheat.” Nonchalant in the platitudes, in the tone, in the speech. Last times and opportunities, gone in a flash, and then the fragmented portions of nothingness, set adrift until the sun scorched and the currents mauled, tossed, and ensured a slow, slow damnation.
She didn’t care. She couldn’t.
The notion of no one being left for her to be good for them cut and slash deep, and her fists clenched. There was half a semblance, a thought, to beat the man beside her bloody, until she didn’t feel so empty, until the hollowed figments weren’t like wandering vessels, and she wasn’t a piece of maneuvering abominations.
For the moment she simply walked, walked, and walked, like she could’ve until she’d reached the ends of the earth. Until she was forced to cease, to desist, when he crossed into her path – and her predacious eyes narrowed, a snarl fixed on her mouth. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to linger in the spaces of those possibilities. A hiss threatened through her lips, and only stilled when a chord in his phrases cut through her – a tilting of her head followed, thoughts striving over the melancholy. “What do you mean, just appeared? For how long?” Timelines might have had no concept now, but she knew when she’d been sent out across the waves. “Longheat. I died in Longheat.” Nonchalant in the platitudes, in the tone, in the speech. Last times and opportunities, gone in a flash, and then the fragmented portions of nothingness, set adrift until the sun scorched and the currents mauled, tossed, and ensured a slow, slow damnation.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
