[ What a stupid creature she is that she almost begs the other woman not to hurt the being. This thing with the faces of all her regrets, the churning, whipping, unending force. Of broken ship masts, torn sails, that Gilia sees every night even without this thing, like no spirit she has ever known, even those born in the painful places of the world.
But the woman - her rescuer - will not be stopped, it seems. Fearsome as any of the Deer-Striders. Corded strength that moved in a purpose Gilia had never felt in her life. But she manages to uncurl herself from her little fearful ball against the wall. She is protected only somewhat by the heavier garments she wore that mean it's spear-tipped fingers had scratched deeply instead of outright stabbing her. ]
You should run.
[ Because if this thing was what she suspected it was - then she deserved all it would do to her, and worse. ]
no subject
But the woman - her rescuer - will not be stopped, it seems. Fearsome as any of the Deer-Striders. Corded strength that moved in a purpose Gilia had never felt in her life. But she manages to uncurl herself from her little fearful ball against the wall. She is protected only somewhat by the heavier garments she wore that mean it's spear-tipped fingers had scratched deeply instead of outright stabbing her. ]
You should run.
[ Because if this thing was what she suspected it was - then she deserved all it would do to her, and worse. ]