MABEL
Cameron was correct. Mabel blinked slowly, lodging the name in her brain, but nothing came of it – naught known or familiar, not even in some books she might’ve recently ripped apart in the Atheneum. So while slashing at another pumpkin, and then kicking it for good measure, merely to watch it scuttle and roll along the ground, she continued to listen. Similar to Torchline, but with less beaches – the heat they couldn’t feel any longer might not have been a bad thing, and her fear of water meant that perhaps this place sounded ideal, once upon a time.
Her eyes fell back to the ground as they apologized, and she wrinkled her nose a bit, wondering if she’d prompted the regrets and rancor without meaning so. “It’s okay.” She paused, considering, remembering hours she’d spent watching Samuel’s family mementos curl and dissolve in flames. “I don’t talk a lot.” An obvious statement, but she shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps Cameron's words filled the void, and now that she had them on her tongue, she didn't know what to do with them. “I’ve always lived in the Grounds.” And clearly, there wasn’t much to add about that.
Her eyes fell back to the ground as they apologized, and she wrinkled her nose a bit, wondering if she’d prompted the regrets and rancor without meaning so. “It’s okay.” She paused, considering, remembering hours she’d spent watching Samuel’s family mementos curl and dissolve in flames. “I don’t talk a lot.” An obvious statement, but she shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps Cameron's words filled the void, and now that she had them on her tongue, she didn't know what to do with them. “I’ve always lived in the Grounds.” And clearly, there wasn’t much to add about that.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
