but the thing is, even if i could go back, i wouldn't belong there anymore
She looks up at Mildew, at the curls of hair that frame the woman's face, as she glances toward their surroundings in emphasis of the things Aurelia had seen. 'Them.'
Despite the rabbiting of her heart and the disorientation she feels, she listens. More importantly, she trusts. With shaking muscles and pained groans, she gets up as quickly as she can. The supportive arm certainly helps things along, and from there she takes things one step at a time. Aside from that, she tries to concentrate almost solely on her breathing.
Her voice is raspy, it cuts at the back of her throat with each word she utters - but she utters them anyway. It had been so long since she'd seen a friendly face, or talked to someone other than... them. "Where are we?" She asks, "The.. the swamps? How did I get here? I was.. I was in the desert... with Remi.
"How long have I been out here?" The last question is quieter, breathier, spoken more to herself than to Mildew.
Despite the rabbiting of her heart and the disorientation she feels, she listens. More importantly, she trusts. With shaking muscles and pained groans, she gets up as quickly as she can. The supportive arm certainly helps things along, and from there she takes things one step at a time. Aside from that, she tries to concentrate almost solely on her breathing.
Her voice is raspy, it cuts at the back of her throat with each word she utters - but she utters them anyway. It had been so long since she'd seen a friendly face, or talked to someone other than... them. "Where are we?" She asks, "The.. the swamps? How did I get here? I was.. I was in the desert... with Remi.
"How long have I been out here?" The last question is quieter, breathier, spoken more to herself than to Mildew.
Aurelia
