[Training] Always Where I Need To Be

MABEL

Her fingers tightened over the hilt of her knife, until the knuckles would’ve furnished white – had she any normal blood. Instead the ichor that ran through her was fluid and indistinct, and she didn’t need to breathe, but it didn’t stop the sharper inhales and exhales as she strived to gain some platitude.

And then that question. That damned question. It echoed and bounded, scratched and gnarled, and another snarl threatened to roar and hiss over her lips. That would be so much easier than admitting the truth. Than facing the deeper undulations sliding down her soul. Than remembering the choking garbles of currents. Of claws coming across wooden walls. Of demons threatening their existence. Of imminent disaster and ruin, and she wasn’t ready for it. She didn’t think any of them were, really.

“No,” she said at first, which was an obvious lie, no matter how off-putting she’d made her features, staring down at the cobblestones and dirt in the middle of the evening, brandishing a dagger she couldn’t even use properly. “I don’t want to die again,” came in a quieter tone, a shrugging of shoulders. Like it was all that simple.

If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see