No. [ She spits out, hacks out. There's blood on her teeth, bubbling up at the corners of her mouth. She laughs again, grinning up with blood between her teeth. ] Thought of a— joke. Ever hear the one about the tortoise and the—
[ Meg hacks up a glob of red mess on her chin. Her hand slides over, hand gripping her hoodie and pulling it up. Her abdomen is a sliced mess, made worse by the poor patch job and the running for her life. She'll probably bleed out soon enough, but: ]
no subject
[ Meg hacks up a glob of red mess on her chin. Her hand slides over, hand gripping her hoodie and pulling it up. Her abdomen is a sliced mess, made worse by the poor patch job and the running for her life. She'll probably bleed out soon enough, but: ]
Weren't you raised better? Don't— gloat.