[ Max is grateful for the moments of silence. All there is between them are the sounds of bandages wrapping up fur and skin, and the enticing melody, playing ever on.

It's not like she doesn't know it's a little ridiculous to be this controlled by her past—at least, ridiculous in her own eyes. It's not even Starcourt. Not even the actual place. That's not even still standing. Maybe that's why she hasn't been able to take a single step past this, though; it was gone with Billy, a result of the coverup. No one's even allowed around its ruins, which is hardly a way to process the shit that happened there.

So. A mall that seems so similar, in appearance and feeling—going near there freezes her in place. Just like she's watching Billy die again, not a single step taken. ]

Better. [ She's surprised that that's the truth. But she feels it and she looks it. With the bandages holding in what passes for blood in her body and Basil's steady heat, Max looks less like a waterlogged corpse—face not sunken, skin not sagging. The normal amount of pale, mostly.

However... ] I...still don't know if I can walk, though. My legs are, uh... They're stiff.

[ It's not just her legs. Her arms feel it too, like her muscles are tensing up, permanently. ]

I think, ummm. I need...to eat something. It won't...heal, if I don't.