MABEL
She shuddered; a mess on the insides and some little abomination on the outside. Yearning to curl back into herself, to become a seething maelstrom, to be pulled in a hundred different directions so the panic flickered away, so everything manifested back into the aspects of reality. Somehow she ended up near the tunnels, no water in her sights, likely the Wraith pulling her onward, and out of whatever brink she’d like to lose herself within.
It was the rush, the zeal, the urgency that made her want to spin and break, rampage onward and push, flicker, devise, and divide. Her hands were like claws and her teeth were like iron and somewhere along the way she’d have to be all steel – she didn’t know how Wessex did it. How she maintained composure. Because everything inward longed to crawl and wither and fade, or blast apart at the seams. “Not to rush,” Mabel whispered at first, a low granule tossed into the seams of the world around them. “But I feel like, if I don’t – there’s no time.”
For war? For revenge? For learning enough to not die again? For anything, really.
It was the rush, the zeal, the urgency that made her want to spin and break, rampage onward and push, flicker, devise, and divide. Her hands were like claws and her teeth were like iron and somewhere along the way she’d have to be all steel – she didn’t know how Wessex did it. How she maintained composure. Because everything inward longed to crawl and wither and fade, or blast apart at the seams. “Not to rush,” Mabel whispered at first, a low granule tossed into the seams of the world around them. “But I feel like, if I don’t – there’s no time.”
For war? For revenge? For learning enough to not die again? For anything, really.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
