[Reading. Words. Stories. All important, just like the thing he's reaching down for that she tries to assess with narrow-eyed bemusement.]
Rrhm.
[Not just reading. The way her hand comes up, it must look like she's about to go back to chewing on the bitten off stump, but instead, it's the rest of her fingers that touch her lips, just the tips. Something's familiar about it, and something wonders if it really will make thinking easier like she feels it will. Something else he'd said. It wasn't quite right, but it...
What was it?
Written, but not.
It's you, the voice prompts, trying to be encouraging but coming off glum with how unfair all of it was. She'd never get her dream. Hell, she doesn't even know if dreaming is a thing. Back to the point -- Or me. Who you used to be.]
Ruh... Ryyyy...er. Ry-der.
[Not knowing what purpose they were meant to be fulfilling, her fingers move away again to reach for the page. There were friends on there, even if something struggles to recognize them. She feels like...maybe they were the only friends she ever had. Faces certainly don't come to mind if she dwells on such an alien concept. Her dirty nails fall away with a scraping sound as they miss their target. Still, they're back soon enough, joined by her other hand jerkily trying to reach with even less precision and coming with a soft click from her collar. Somehow, something is able to eventually find a way to dig her fingers into the outer edge, holding the book aloft in a way that makes the voice inside of her make some satisfying death gurgles. She huffs out with triumph as she stares at the pages. Yes, this is right, and she did it.]
no subject
[Reading. Words. Stories. All important, just like the thing he's reaching down for that she tries to assess with narrow-eyed bemusement.]
Rrhm.
[Not just reading. The way her hand comes up, it must look like she's about to go back to chewing on the bitten off stump, but instead, it's the rest of her fingers that touch her lips, just the tips. Something's familiar about it, and something wonders if it really will make thinking easier like she feels it will. Something else he'd said. It wasn't quite right, but it...
What was it?
Written, but not.
It's you, the voice prompts, trying to be encouraging but coming off glum with how unfair all of it was. She'd never get her dream. Hell, she doesn't even know if dreaming is a thing. Back to the point -- Or me. Who you used to be.]
Ruh... Ryyyy...er. Ry-der.
[Not knowing what purpose they were meant to be fulfilling, her fingers move away again to reach for the page. There were friends on there, even if something struggles to recognize them. She feels like...maybe they were the only friends she ever had. Faces certainly don't come to mind if she dwells on such an alien concept. Her dirty nails fall away with a scraping sound as they miss their target. Still, they're back soon enough, joined by her other hand jerkily trying to reach with even less precision and coming with a soft click from her collar. Somehow, something is able to eventually find a way to dig her fingers into the outer edge, holding the book aloft in a way that makes the voice inside of her make some satisfying death gurgles. She huffs out with triumph as she stares at the pages. Yes, this is right, and she did it.]
Read.