in true wonderland fashion, one simple word to describe their friendship with would be mad. absolutely mad. both literally mad and lovely wonderland mad.
her family’s leaning moral alignment lay opposite of the hearts. it’s a wonder they were considered close. but still, there is a reason why they get along so well. cheshires are many things: cunning, coy, catty, a cheat. seraphina —scheming, sly, sneaky, a snake. but one thing is sure, they’re also loyal to the bone towards their friends. with what happened that summer, she should have stopped talking to alistair altogether. stained. but all things mad, she loved.
so even when she hates him more than she has through her entire life, (this year armored with sharp words instead of sassing ones) when she sees his wound, sena is already pulling out the bandages. “you poor fool, who did you offend this time?” she’s sighing, her specially blue bandages sliding around his arm.
but she has miscalculated. it takes only one inkling of a thought, the gnarly red across his skin brings up a reminder. blood. there’s so much red. bloodbloodblood. her hands —what has she done?
sena swallows, fear bubbling like bile up her throat. her smile is nervous, laugh wispy in half humor, half condemnation. “so much like your mother, hurt by those that you make victim.” it’s uncharacteristic. her breath is shallow and hands shaking as they tie the knot around his binding.
