EMMALINE
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here wondering whether it’s safe enough to go look for help. I don’t know what my attacker cut me with. It could be poisoned. This could be another attempt by my father’s people to finish me off. Although, I don't think that I am dying. Still, I cannot stop staring at the silver blood lining the wound, now clotting. The cut has started to raise, the colouring alike the angry red I’ve often seen around other wounds belonging to others. To call for help would mean to show them the injury. They would see my blood, see that it is abnormal. Or maybe it is normal for Valglarians to bleed this colour? What would I know? I’ve never even seen a Valglarian. If Phobos’s story of how their genetic system works is true, it would explain why I’ve never
