When you First Get Love

Untitled Episode

The wooden post came down, and Rouge darted, knocking over a few things; the sounds and years of stale air being brought back to life caused Magda to quickly buckle down and cover her head until Rouge touched down on her shoulder as the noise subsided. Or she wished. She had been crying.

She'd say, four or five things had fallen and the dust, newly unsettled, was floating downward daintily as Magda lifted her arms and head. Breathing was harsh, and she covered her nose and mouth in her sleeved arm. She wished to have kept the noise down as much as possible,though she couldn't tell how much of a fool's errand this was.

Continuing forward, the weak light from the necklace pointed in a solitary direction varying with the way it's owner was looking. The pressure on her foot reminded her of the shard of glass, and she moved a large pile of drapes and cloths, searching for one that was relatively clean. filth long discarded covering all surfaces. Splintered variations of wood and cast iron were scattered at the edges of the path before her.

Candle sticks, shelving, and papers lay across the walkway, darkened centrally. It had been occupied for long enough that the smell in the air had changed drastically from what she remembered.

She surveyed the area outside of the more obvious carved out walking paths in the trash, and rested her eyes on a much older bookshelf, far off in a corner where the invaders had been throwing the items they must have felt were in their way.

Keeping a wide view of possible surrounding movements, ears prickling from the silence.

Her finger went straight to her mouth and sucked for a few moments, coming out after a few seconds with a glistening sheen.

She placed her finger down and lay her finger down lightly for a few moments.

No new smells. No flares in the ways she felt this place, with the sole exception of it en masse. It's homeliness felt offputting as far as she'd gotten.

She felt alone.

She moved in a ragid state to keep the necklace from staying still; Her purpose announcing itself solemnly in the reverberations of the stone walls and down into darknesses she didn't remember existing.

Here I was, attempting to make the best of it.

breathing in my stress, breathing out my confusion.

It serves me no purpose

And I'm going to learn more from this.

Magda felt powerful, feeling smart after having such a thought. Prolific, she noted. And luckily, nothing had tried to ironically murder her in the few moments after she'd had her self-emboldening thoughts. She knew then she wouldn't die if she kept her wits and ego about her.

To her left, her noises reverberated in a more alien tone than the other nooks and crannies and she followed- hands trailing against the ceilings.

Several spiders made their way down her arms as she continued on, but she knew they would be harmless. The air was so dry down the walkway that had been shorter in her fever dreams.

A spike tore in to her left knee about three quarters of a way down.