[ She hits the emoji with a flourish. Pleased and happy to have at least annoyed the shit out of him.
And then she... thinks about it. It's a bluff isn't it? It is for a few hours. It is. And then she really thinks about it. She loves her runners, but a good pair of steel-toed boots... something to brace around the ankle, to catch the trap, offering up thick leather instead of the delicate skin around her ankle. And she swears to god, she swears, she can trace a light ring around her ankle, emerging scar tissue from continued abuse, like it's leaving a little mark. Or maybe it's not, and she's just gone loony.
She laces her runners, takes off into the fog. She's quick, she's quiet, but she gets more careful when she reaches Shelter Woods. It would take no time to run where she needs to go, but she's careful, watching for traps, avoiding various ones, before she makes it to her chosen mark: the Suffocation Pit. The air is stagnant and, she imagines, fake. A facsimile of night air as she inches her way through the mine's maw. She doesn't think Trapper is here or knows she's here, and she begins inching in, flashlight in hand.
The mines are horrid. But she manages it: Finds a corpse frozen in time, a young man with boots she could wear if she double socked. They're proudly in hand when she begins to weasel her way out, but she's also — proud! Cocky. Her foot lands in a trap with a loud TWACK, and she's unable to quiet her cry, and then she's kneeling, hands scrabbling at the trap, because, if he isn't at the Coal tower or the storehouse, then... ]
lmk if changes would help!
😘
[ She hits the emoji with a flourish. Pleased and happy to have at least annoyed the shit out of him.
And then she... thinks about it. It's a bluff isn't it? It is for a few hours. It is. And then she really thinks about it. She loves her runners, but a good pair of steel-toed boots... something to brace around the ankle, to catch the trap, offering up thick leather instead of the delicate skin around her ankle. And she swears to god, she swears, she can trace a light ring around her ankle, emerging scar tissue from continued abuse, like it's leaving a little mark. Or maybe it's not, and she's just gone loony.
She laces her runners, takes off into the fog. She's quick, she's quiet, but she gets more careful when she reaches Shelter Woods. It would take no time to run where she needs to go, but she's careful, watching for traps, avoiding various ones, before she makes it to her chosen mark: the Suffocation Pit. The air is stagnant and, she imagines, fake. A facsimile of night air as she inches her way through the mine's maw. She doesn't think Trapper is here or knows she's here, and she begins inching in, flashlight in hand.
The mines are horrid. But she manages it: Finds a corpse frozen in time, a young man with boots she could wear if she double socked. They're proudly in hand when she begins to weasel her way out, but she's also — proud! Cocky. Her foot lands in a trap with a loud TWACK, and she's unable to quiet her cry, and then she's kneeling, hands scrabbling at the trap, because, if he isn't at the Coal tower or the storehouse, then... ]