[ It's maybe a little sad—if Max knew why he practiced so much, she'd be forced to verbally acknowledge that so few people have put in that kind of effort for her. She can count the number on both hands.
She shifts a little, gaze drawn to her useless legs. They aren't leaking sludge or moss anymore, but her wounds are still there, bite marks of varying sizes, holes ripped in her jeans and dead flesh removed. ]
Yeah- yeah, okay. [ A small shiver, not because of the flashes of cold that run through her body, but because she can feel her mouth opening again and— ] We can just- wrap them. There's no fixing them completely.
[ She grimaces in frustration and looks away, tongue heavy like lead. ]
no subject
She shifts a little, gaze drawn to her useless legs. They aren't leaking sludge or moss anymore, but her wounds are still there, bite marks of varying sizes, holes ripped in her jeans and dead flesh removed. ]
Yeah- yeah, okay. [ A small shiver, not because of the flashes of cold that run through her body, but because she can feel her mouth opening again and— ] We can just- wrap them. There's no fixing them completely.
[ She grimaces in frustration and looks away, tongue heavy like lead. ]
Shit, don't- just forget about that.