Being held like this calls up a comparison, the wrapping of arms tight around her as salt water lapped around them both, so close for a moment that Harrow almost hears the sound of ripples against tile. And then, again, the hot sting of pain, a thin trickle of blood and not Canaan House pool water emanating from her ears. She grimaces, another shudder racking her body.
"The Mithraeum," she manages to say once it subsides to a dull ache. Experimentally, she closes her eyes, finding the darkness fractionally easier to continue in. "The Heralds had come. We were to...engage the Beast, and then..." Harrow trembles at the memory of sinking, of resurfacing wounded and pinned on her own rapier like an insect, of crying out for the Tomb and her traitorous mouth falling into a shape she hadn't recognized. "The River. But...wrong."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-05-18 05:46 pm (UTC)"The Mithraeum," she manages to say once it subsides to a dull ache. Experimentally, she closes her eyes, finding the darkness fractionally easier to continue in. "The Heralds had come. We were to...engage the Beast, and then..." Harrow trembles at the memory of sinking, of resurfacing wounded and pinned on her own rapier like an insect, of crying out for the Tomb and her traitorous mouth falling into a shape she hadn't recognized. "The River. But...wrong."