Novella had come rapidly undone, falling backwards into self-destruction; her father had promised she didn't have to figure anything else yet, and her wife pleaded and begged to see her. It should have been endearing. Instead, it toppled an already shaky resolve. She'd dragged her hands, nails sharp as she preferred, against her own face the last time Kaczor had visited.
And had been bound ever since, pacing with her shackles, like a sullen prisoner. She was barefoot, nails clipped, hands shackled in such a way that even if she tried to bring them to her face, it'd be awkward and her arms too heavy to maintain any kind of strength for the harm she might cause herself.
Instead, she had a book in her hands, while she paced. Reading. Theory. Something about magic. The demon was quiet, safely contained within its wards now that her mind and will were no longer slipping.
Novella didn't look up from the book, when she heard her father enter. She flipped the page, and murmured,
@Malachai Valentius
And had been bound ever since, pacing with her shackles, like a sullen prisoner. She was barefoot, nails clipped, hands shackled in such a way that even if she tried to bring them to her face, it'd be awkward and her arms too heavy to maintain any kind of strength for the harm she might cause herself.
Instead, she had a book in her hands, while she paced. Reading. Theory. Something about magic. The demon was quiet, safely contained within its wards now that her mind and will were no longer slipping.
Novella didn't look up from the book, when she heard her father enter. She flipped the page, and murmured,
She won't come back?
@Malachai Valentius
12-20-2024, 04:46 PM
