MABEL
The influx of people automatically had her yearning to retreat to deeper and deeper shadows, but somehow she remained, standing her ground, needling her hands together as questions and suggestions cycled through. Trainings. Searches for relics. Some remain much like she does perhaps, trying to summon the willpower to understand and assemble the information given. What to do with it? Where to go from here? Mabel knew and understood she was merely a conduit in this exchange – the one who’d heard.
Eventually though, onlyBastien had pinpointed an inquiry towards her. “No.” No hows, no wheres, no plausibility other than the limited stretch of time. She opened her mouth for a moment, considering, then snapped it shut – before barreling onwards. “I’m sure…with all the chaos lately,” like Isla’s infirmary burning, like other encompassing means and measures Old Gods might be asserting, “it wouldn’t take much.”
But that couldn’t be what they wanted, right? Not when so many were so woefully unprepared?
Eventually though, only
But that couldn’t be what they wanted, right? Not when so many were so woefully unprepared?
Let's go to war to make peace
Let's be cold to create heat
Let's be cold to create heat
