I was in the darkness, so darkness I became;
She had not had the time to love the land where she had been placed, yet a part of her still aches as she moves. She does not know why, exactly, she moves – she should resist, she knows, if not for love of the land then out of a sense of autonomy, because she is not property, to be gifted or taken at will.
Yet she is compelled, as if by some strange force, to leave behind one land for another. Something in her veins bidding her into this cove, where she is promptly met by a monster.
She tries not to wear her initial disgust too boldly – not that he could have seen it, she supposes – but still, it is a hard thing to swallow. She diverts her eyes, focuses elsewhere, out into the waves.
She does not like the ocean. The smell of salt reminds her of her mother, and that is an ugly memory, one that leaves her laden with shame.
(What had she done? Her own mother! God, and Scissors had loved her ‘til the end. That was the worst of it. Scissors had never stopped loving her.)
“Hello,” she responds. Her voice is dry, desiccated. She swears she can taste salt.
She ponders on his question. She isn’t angry, not exactly. She should be – she thinks she should be – but whatever magic has changed her has also compelled her. She wonders if it’s something she can fight. If she can break these strange chains.
“Not exactly,” she says, though she cannot speak for Anatomy – perhaps she can feel anger. Feel rage. Craft hopes she can.
“I should be angry. I don’t like being moved without my asking. But I didn’t choose Taiga, either.”
Craft
@[ghaul]