"No," she answers, "that's not possible—" but she realises, in that moment, that it is. This is different—something is different.
She rips the returned feather into little flakes, nervously, furiously. As she does, a new vane springs out from the back of her hand to replace the one that she plucked, twice as long as before.
"All right," she says at last, still barely more than a whisper; and takes Daud's hand. Her grip is as light as an insect's footsteps. Then, nothing more; she watches him.
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mmmm this is bad sorry
Date: 2017-10-15 02:39 pm (UTC)She rips the returned feather into little flakes, nervously, furiously. As she does, a new vane springs out from the back of her hand to replace the one that she plucked, twice as long as before.
"All right," she says at last, still barely more than a whisper; and takes Daud's hand. Her grip is as light as an insect's footsteps. Then, nothing more; she watches him.