(no subject)
Someone has sent Mary Lennox a message.
Mary Lennox is not the kind of young lady who keeps hurt to herself, in a stoic and dignified fashion; Mary Lennox is not the kind of proper young lady who keeps herself under control. Even if she were, she would have trouble doing so now.
(Even for someone who hadn't learned from Galadan, the message would be easy to decipher: I can kill what you care for, it says, and your protections are weak. Your home is not safe.)
When she walks into the bar and her face is white, and her breathing fast and hitched, hysterical, although she isn't crying. She takes a sheet of paper, writes on it in large letters - her hands push down so heavily that they almost tear the page - and then pounds it into the message board.
I AM NOT FRIGHTENED OF YOU.
MARY LENNOX
She takes a step back to regard her handiwork, twisting her hands together in front of her, and says, in a sharp, shrill voice, "You ought to be frightened of me!"
(It's utter bravado, but it makes her feel better anyways.)
Mary Lennox is not the kind of young lady who keeps hurt to herself, in a stoic and dignified fashion; Mary Lennox is not the kind of proper young lady who keeps herself under control. Even if she were, she would have trouble doing so now.
(Even for someone who hadn't learned from Galadan, the message would be easy to decipher: I can kill what you care for, it says, and your protections are weak. Your home is not safe.)
When she walks into the bar and her face is white, and her breathing fast and hitched, hysterical, although she isn't crying. She takes a sheet of paper, writes on it in large letters - her hands push down so heavily that they almost tear the page - and then pounds it into the message board.
I AM NOT FRIGHTENED OF YOU.
MARY LENNOX
She takes a step back to regard her handiwork, twisting her hands together in front of her, and says, in a sharp, shrill voice, "You ought to be frightened of me!"
(It's utter bravado, but it makes her feel better anyways.)