( the feed comes in fuzzy & filled with static. then Nea speaks, his words echoing and disjointed. )
They are out t̪̗h͡͏̷̲͉̬͈̯̼̺̙e̵͈̞̰r̳͍̼̦̖͎͇e͕͖̘.
Watching. Waiting. Hungering.
Prison walls won't keep them out. Not for long. Not. For. Long.
ʍɥɐʇ ʍıll ʎon po ʇɥǝu¿
( then there is a slam of flesh against stone wall. someone thinks it's fun to
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A sleepless bramble of thorns, and not a single bloom in the whole garden. Such tired things, but every time I sing a song to tuck them in I watch them chase the sunrise.
[In other words she scares them. ... A lot.]
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