[ In the middle of a vast, snowy plain is a hole in the ground, too small to be a chasm and too large to be a pit and too tidy to be natural. Falke stands on the edge of it, the wind whipping at her hair and her gaze focused downward. A staircase cuts a dark spiral against the red walls, down and down to a featureless, equally red floor. Snow drifts down the shaft and splatters bright white pinpricks against the stairs and floor alike. Falke pays them as much heed as she does the wind and the cold.
Something is down there.
Something has always been down there.
So Falke goes down, too. She takes each step like anyone would, though there's no telltale tap of metal against metal. The whole time she keeps her gaze fixed on the bottom, and on her goal. Her pace is steady but her thoughts accelerate, stretching into a blur of anxious urgency. After an eternity she dismounts the final step.
Then she stops. Her gaze hasn't wavered even once this whole time, but now she allows herself a brief moment to close her eyes. When she opens them again her focus has only grown more intense for its brief absence. ]
I finally found you.
[ (She knows that's not right, but there's nothing else she can say.) ]
no subject
Something is down there.
Something has always been down there.
So Falke goes down, too. She takes each step like anyone would, though there's no telltale tap of metal against metal. The whole time she keeps her gaze fixed on the bottom, and on her goal. Her pace is steady but her thoughts accelerate, stretching into a blur of anxious urgency. After an eternity she dismounts the final step.
Then she stops. Her gaze hasn't wavered even once this whole time, but now she allows herself a brief moment to close her eyes. When she opens them again her focus has only grown more intense for its brief absence. ]
I finally found you.
[ (She knows that's not right, but there's nothing else she can say.) ]