[Sure she can manage. Until she can’t. And there’s really no way to tell how long until it happens. Wendy hasn’t died - at least she doesn’t think she has? Always keeping safe, remaining within bounds, playing by the rules (for the most part) and doing nothing reckless until she meets a stranger in a trial who captures her full attention. She doesn’t want to die, not when there isn’t a guarantee of revival. Not here, not like this. The potential threat is enough to keep her on edge. But despite the circumstances - she is keeping positive, harnessing as much optimism as she can.
Map still in her lap, she glances up at him. Nods a few times in agreement.]
Yeah - okay. I guess we can do that. [Her head tilts at the mention of a “good room” but she doesn’t say a word about it. A good room - safe room. To hide out. That’s all. Like this one but perhaps out of the line of fire. Being on the ground floor is too dangerous now.
She looks after him as he opens the door and begins heading out, waits a few moments before pushing herself to stand and starting to follow him. Doing her best to keep the weight off her bad leg along the way. Map still in hand just in case they need it.
She doesn’t like what she sees outside the storage room - all the carnage turns her stomach so quickly. There’s such a huge difference experiencing this sort of thing up close. Before it was through screens and monitors, now it’s usually from a safe enough distance on trial grounds.]
You did all this? [Her tone is somewhere between surprised and impressed. She’s slow and careful to step around the mess of gore as best she can. Ends up dragging her shoes through blood and viscera but there’s no possible way to avoid it. Bloody coat, bloody sweater, bloody shoes.]
no subject
Map still in her lap, she glances up at him. Nods a few times in agreement.]
Yeah - okay. I guess we can do that. [Her head tilts at the mention of a “good room” but she doesn’t say a word about it. A good room - safe room. To hide out. That’s all. Like this one but perhaps out of the line of fire. Being on the ground floor is too dangerous now.
She looks after him as he opens the door and begins heading out, waits a few moments before pushing herself to stand and starting to follow him. Doing her best to keep the weight off her bad leg along the way. Map still in hand just in case they need it.
She doesn’t like what she sees outside the storage room - all the carnage turns her stomach so quickly. There’s such a huge difference experiencing this sort of thing up close. Before it was through screens and monitors, now it’s usually from a safe enough distance on trial grounds.]
You did all this? [Her tone is somewhere between surprised and impressed. She’s slow and careful to step around the mess of gore as best she can. Ends up dragging her shoes through blood and viscera but there’s no possible way to avoid it. Bloody coat, bloody sweater, bloody shoes.]