[The text is very cryptic, but enough to worry her and spur her into some very quick action. She gathers everything she can think she might find useful and even a few things she might not, shoves everything into a couple of bags, and heads out to the stables immediately.
When she walks in and sees him sitting there every trace of colour immediately drains from her face. He'd see the way her posture shifts, straightens, how she deliberately steels herself against asking when he told her not to, against any show of visible upset because he asked her not to be, and she marches over to him in silence.
The bags are set down, opened, and then she picks up the disembodied arm and checks the connections where it had been torn from his body. Her face is paper-white, but she says nothing while she examines the limb, just glancing at him briefly before she leans in to look over his shoulder as well.]
This is worse than last time.
[For several reasons.
Her voice sounds strange. Distant. Detached. Her brow furrows a little, then she turns away to start rummaging for tools.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-12-24 02:50 am (UTC)When she walks in and sees him sitting there every trace of colour immediately drains from her face. He'd see the way her posture shifts, straightens, how she deliberately steels herself against asking when he told her not to, against any show of visible upset because he asked her not to be, and she marches over to him in silence.
The bags are set down, opened, and then she picks up the disembodied arm and checks the connections where it had been torn from his body. Her face is paper-white, but she says nothing while she examines the limb, just glancing at him briefly before she leans in to look over his shoulder as well.]
This is worse than last time.
[For several reasons.
Her voice sounds strange. Distant. Detached. Her brow furrows a little, then she turns away to start rummaging for tools.]