Okay. [She accepts that directive easily despite the tumultuous storm growing in her heart and body. There's a certain acceptance there, as if she's become comfortable if only for a moment. It's good: It means there's very little danger in just letting her be, that she isn't likely to descend into pacing and gnashing no matter how troubled she currently is.
Ninety-Nine is silent for a while, letting the sounds and the breeze wash over her. For once, it smells much nicer than the persistent onslaught of death and fear that's followed them forever. Those things aren't gone for good, but the reminder that there are other things in the world is soothing. After that silence, she speaks again, looking for something she can't quite conjure up for herself.]
no subject
Ninety-Nine is silent for a while, letting the sounds and the breeze wash over her. For once, it smells much nicer than the persistent onslaught of death and fear that's followed them forever. Those things aren't gone for good, but the reminder that there are other things in the world is soothing. After that silence, she speaks again, looking for something she can't quite conjure up for herself.]
What should I think about?