[The thing offers her his sleeve. She stares at it blankly, rigidly, and there is something about her expression of the exhausted bewilderment of an animal run down and cornered.
With utmost stiff dignity, she plucks at the corner of the dangling sleeve, and wipes her face cleaner. The skin so revealed is pale and pinkish, a not entirely wholesome flushed hue, and her orchid tinted lips are set in a softly unhappy line. She drops the sleeve by letting it run through her fingers, loosely, and curls back up on herself.]
Back to this place.
[She half-lids her eyes, gestures down at herself with the flick of her wrist.]
Back to - this.
I died. [She says, in a tone of voice that has rarely fallen from her mouth, because she has had so little to be afraid of, for such a very long time.] It isn't fair.
no subject
With utmost stiff dignity, she plucks at the corner of the dangling sleeve, and wipes her face cleaner. The skin so revealed is pale and pinkish, a not entirely wholesome flushed hue, and her orchid tinted lips are set in a softly unhappy line. She drops the sleeve by letting it run through her fingers, loosely, and curls back up on herself.]
Back to this place.
[She half-lids her eyes, gestures down at herself with the flick of her wrist.]
Back to - this.
I died. [She says, in a tone of voice that has rarely fallen from her mouth, because she has had so little to be afraid of, for such a very long time.] It isn't fair.