Isla
It's done. Isla's thoughts are filled with masses of colour, with specimens that begged for further inspection, with medicines she might be able to try if only they had thought to bring sample containers with them. But wild and wonderful as it was to get out, to get anywhere that wasn't the stone grey of the Hollowed Grounds, now it is time to return. LongNight is almost upon them, and the medic has to be there. She's got a role to play in all of this, much as she'd like to steal away to the Feverlands for the remainder of Deepfrost.
She's brushing herself off to give Remi time to shift back and do whatever he needs to in terms of not-being-a-manticore (and Isla knows on a personal level now, how difficult that savagery can be to quell). It has snowed again and the moon shines a weak light onto the Outskirts, lending everything a ghostly pallor. "Thank you again," she says softly. "For bringing me along with you."
She's brushing herself off to give Remi time to shift back and do whatever he needs to in terms of not-being-a-manticore (and Isla knows on a personal level now, how difficult that savagery can be to quell). It has snowed again and the moon shines a weak light onto the Outskirts, lending everything a ghostly pallor. "Thank you again," she says softly. "For bringing me along with you."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
