There were still too many things left unknown. No matter how much she turns them over in her head, even if she were a smarter, more educated woman familiar with this place… surely it still wouldn’t be enough? Perhaps she can cease blaming herself.
For a moment… she lets her fingers quest into the folds of the pelt fastened around her “waist”, cautiously pressing her fingertips to the shard there… but it is cold and dormant to her touch, and it does not speak to her. Does not tel her the right answer.
So between the two… with what limited information they had “from” the man himself…]
Then let us see what he has to say.
[This Tribune, Cyrus, who had placed in her hand a bead that seemed to show a glimpse of her world. She cannot say that she trusts him, because she doesn’t trust any of the people in this place, but between the two…]
I cannot trust that woman, Yima.
[And she has struggled to articulate why, to those who asked, because she is loathe to admit things about herself and her past to people she considers strangers. But this man… they had spoken in Venera of things she hadn’t been so forthcoming with others about. Of faith. Of brothers and sisters. Perhaps, if he recalled some of the chaotic memories she’d unintentionally made him privy to, in those stars so long ago-]
When she touched me it felt… familiar, somehow. Her embrace like… like a mother’s.
[Most people would likely take comfort in that. She hadn’t been able to do anything but, in the actual moment, sinking into that woman’s arms. But now, when she thinks of it… there is only mistrust and a strange sort of horror in her eye. Because-]
But my dam was Armless.
[So where had those emotions come from? Where could that familiarity and feeling of comfort come from… If not placed in her hearts by someone else?]
no subject
There were still too many things left unknown. No matter how much she turns them over in her head, even if she were a smarter, more educated woman familiar with this place… surely it still wouldn’t be enough? Perhaps she can cease blaming herself.
For a moment… she lets her fingers quest into the folds of the pelt fastened around her “waist”, cautiously pressing her fingertips to the shard there… but it is cold and dormant to her touch, and it does not speak to her. Does not tel her the right answer.
So between the two… with what limited information they had “from” the man himself…]
Then let us see what he has to say.
[This Tribune, Cyrus, who had placed in her hand a bead that seemed to show a glimpse of her world. She cannot say that she trusts him, because she doesn’t trust any of the people in this place, but between the two…]
I cannot trust that woman, Yima.
[And she has struggled to articulate why, to those who asked, because she is loathe to admit things about herself and her past to people she considers strangers. But this man… they had spoken in Venera of things she hadn’t been so forthcoming with others about. Of faith. Of brothers and sisters. Perhaps, if he recalled some of the chaotic memories she’d unintentionally made him privy to, in those stars so long ago-]
When she touched me it felt… familiar, somehow. Her embrace like… like a mother’s.
[Most people would likely take comfort in that. She hadn’t been able to do anything but, in the actual moment, sinking into that woman’s arms. But now, when she thinks of it… there is only mistrust and a strange sort of horror in her eye. Because-]
But my dam was Armless.
[So where had those emotions come from? Where could that familiarity and feeling of comfort come from… If not placed in her hearts by someone else?]