⁽ ¹ ⁾ an exploration of: the dark castle, age of resistance. accepting. “ i didn’t take anything! see? ”
brutality of the unknown which was shrouded in obscurity and shadows set an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, settling like acid flooding her veins. posture is impossibly stiff, her gaze ever shifting in lookout for something she desperately hoped she would not actually envision. she follows @engests closely, so closely in fact that if she stepped any closer, she’d trip over his own footing; but sense of proximity was the sole thing that settled repose in beating heart which rapidly rattled against the cage of her ribs. each step taken was echoed by a dreadful creak, wood bending beneath their weight after years of disuse. ‟ okay, great luke, that’s fine. i feel like ghosts probably also disapprove of theft so best not to chance it, yeah? ” her words come out sputtered and quick, evidence of the nerves shifting through her relentlessly.
her hands are curled into fists by her side, jaw clenched and hinged. she’s cold, she thinks, but she refuses to chalk it up to anything other than the biting autumn chill that surfaced now that the sun had dissipated into night sky. ‟ are we done yet? can we please go? ” really, she doesn’t mean to be pushy . . . or well, yes she does. petulance came naturally with this disposition of unease. ‟ you said half an hour tops. it has now been 36 minutes, 45 seconds. and, yes i am counting. so can we leave? you didn’t find anything so let’s just go. you promised me food. that’s the only reason i even agreed to come in the first place! ”