no subject

Heh. Nice.

[ Snow can feel something beginning to come undone, bit by bit, but she still can't move. Maybe it's just her, starting to peel away like shed skin. She'll molt and crumble and nothing will be left of her.

Because Kainé's memories come in indistinct flashes. They rhyme with her own and infect her with that similarity. She can't know where one ends and the other begins. She remembers Anna Amarande and she thinks the vision of her might destroy all that she is.

Even now she sees that woman in Ariane's face, the way her hair falls to frame her features, in her sarcastic jokes and gentle concern for her. ]

...All the things that made me happy have been turned to scrap. Or never belonged to me anyway.