ISLA
It's a fairly short flight, all things considered, and soon enough Isla is heading in through the refuge arm in arm with Sunjata. She falls quiet as they walk through the rain, not gazing at anything in particular; the last time she was here it was to deliver the worst news imaginable after having received it herself. She isn't proud of herself for the way she was back then, and the memories are such that she barely notices the dying plants or the red door.
Not until she's inside, and then suddenly there are strange pieces of Sunjata all over the place, Isla clearing her throat and tucking a lock of sodden hair back behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she says, uncomfortably aware of her sudden retreat into herself. "I just remember how it was, the last time I was here. I don't want to bring the mood down, though."
Huffing out a breath, she glances around, pretending not to notice the bottles and glasses. Not outright, anyway. "This reminds me of the VlamVloed, a bit," she says instead.
Not until she's inside, and then suddenly there are strange pieces of Sunjata all over the place, Isla clearing her throat and tucking a lock of sodden hair back behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she says, uncomfortably aware of her sudden retreat into herself. "I just remember how it was, the last time I was here. I don't want to bring the mood down, though."
Huffing out a breath, she glances around, pretending not to notice the bottles and glasses. Not outright, anyway. "This reminds me of the VlamVloed, a bit," she says instead.
apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood
after me comes the flood
