Please allow me to introduce myself
Who: Bonnie and anyone else
What: Arrival
When: Monday night
Where: Ruins
Bonnie darted through the ruins, not quite a blur, but faster than a human should be. Something was wrong. She wasn't going fast enough.
It had to be a dream, it just had to be.
Trees didn't just thrust out of rustic Italian fountains and suck you into them. That sort of thing just didn't happen in real life.
And then there had been that man--had he done this to her? He had hurt her when she tried to bite him.
The man. Bonnie tried to remember what he'd done. Birthed her? Was he her mother? Why would her mother hurt her?
She crouched down on the ground, poised like a runner, wild red curls covering the more shameful aspects of her body.
Brown eyes darted around, and she tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. Rocks. Ivy. Wrong smells. Wrong sun. She should be dead. That's what had happened to Elena.
But how could the sun be wrong? That didn't make any sense. The sun made sense. It was fire. Bonnie had always responded to fire. Was that it? Was the fire protecting her from death?
A soft whimper escaped her. She didn't like this dream.
What: Arrival
When: Monday night
Where: Ruins
Bonnie darted through the ruins, not quite a blur, but faster than a human should be. Something was wrong. She wasn't going fast enough.
It had to be a dream, it just had to be.
Trees didn't just thrust out of rustic Italian fountains and suck you into them. That sort of thing just didn't happen in real life.
And then there had been that man--had he done this to her? He had hurt her when she tried to bite him.
The man. Bonnie tried to remember what he'd done. Birthed her? Was he her mother? Why would her mother hurt her?
She crouched down on the ground, poised like a runner, wild red curls covering the more shameful aspects of her body.
Brown eyes darted around, and she tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. Rocks. Ivy. Wrong smells. Wrong sun. She should be dead. That's what had happened to Elena.
But how could the sun be wrong? That didn't make any sense. The sun made sense. It was fire. Bonnie had always responded to fire. Was that it? Was the fire protecting her from death?
A soft whimper escaped her. She didn't like this dream.