the lost world | team titans, day one
Oct 20, 2021 14:45:25 GMT -5
Post by hesper hart 🐺 d9f on Oct 20, 2021 14:45:25 GMT -5
She shivered from her vantage point. She tried to convince herself that it was the steady flow of wind and not the pure, unbridled fear pulsing through her. It took a concerning amount of effort to even hold herself aloft of the branch and she was terrified that if she let her clutching grip on the branch above her go, she'd soon topple out of the tree end over end, and she just didn't want to die that way.
So she sat there frozen, the strangely large egg she found on her way in feeling heavier on her back by the second. Ah, bother. She would have loved nothing more in that moment than to be home. It wasn't an original thought, maybe. She supposed there were more valiant things to want, things that made her selfless and graceful and nice. She didn't really want to be selfless or graceful or nice anymore, though. What had it ever gotten her that was wort anything?
She looked over at the girl who saved her in the bloodbath. They hadn't spoken a memorable word to each other since their departure from the boy from Ten- Aneesa thought she remembered hearing the girl's warning to duck at some point, and there was a pause where they'd locked eyes as the canons began to toll for the dead. Four. And the day wasn't over.
Of course they chose now to remind the tributes why it was called a bloodbath.
"You don't look tortured."
She blinked absently, unaware of what a strange statement it was to make to a person. It was true, though. Well, no more tortured than the rest of them, at least. It was only when the other girl still didn't explain herself that Aneesa carried on. She kicked her legs freely, stared out at the sludgy swampland below them.
"I meant, I heard they were torturing you. I still suppose they could've been but you look fine to me. Physically, at least."
She grimaced.
"Sorry, I have a habit of... analyzing stuff. Old habit."
So she sat there frozen, the strangely large egg she found on her way in feeling heavier on her back by the second. Ah, bother. She would have loved nothing more in that moment than to be home. It wasn't an original thought, maybe. She supposed there were more valiant things to want, things that made her selfless and graceful and nice. She didn't really want to be selfless or graceful or nice anymore, though. What had it ever gotten her that was wort anything?
She looked over at the girl who saved her in the bloodbath. They hadn't spoken a memorable word to each other since their departure from the boy from Ten- Aneesa thought she remembered hearing the girl's warning to duck at some point, and there was a pause where they'd locked eyes as the canons began to toll for the dead. Four. And the day wasn't over.
Of course they chose now to remind the tributes why it was called a bloodbath.
"You don't look tortured."
She blinked absently, unaware of what a strange statement it was to make to a person. It was true, though. Well, no more tortured than the rest of them, at least. It was only when the other girl still didn't explain herself that Aneesa carried on. She kicked her legs freely, stared out at the sludgy swampland below them.
"I meant, I heard they were torturing you. I still suppose they could've been but you look fine to me. Physically, at least."
She grimaced.
"Sorry, I have a habit of... analyzing stuff. Old habit."
