ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's always quiet before a storm, and she can feel it brewing from deep within her -- or perhaps it’s just there, deep within the city’s core and she is feeling the tremors of disaster while everyone else wants to believe in their sanctity of tranquility.  peace is a notion that’s cherished by all but ultimately, it’s unwanted and unattainable so long as there’s the wolf at the rabbit’s throat.  so, too, the city rises: the dogs that call themselves police ripping deep within her nesting grounds and laying chaos rampant among those she calls her children.  they take away their father, her prophet and there is no scripture written in any bible that ember owns or has written for that will tell her the next move to make or where to go.
this is why she has to write her own book.  the book of ember, then she’ll burn it to ashes when jung joonyoung ( her father, her holy spirit ) comes back alive.
and he will come back alive even if she has to walk into the den of wolves herself to fetch him.
these have been the thoughts that linger in the back of her mind as she plans, thinks, determines the next move to take.  her head rests upon her knees because she too, is hurting and she thinks of all the reasons why she’s probably failing her precious family now.  but in the end, while perhaps she’s taking too long, perhaps she’s thinking too much or being too cautious -- her family, the snakes are known well for their quick strike and their penchant for revenge -- in reality, ember did not get to where she is by being quick to the draw, quick to strike.  she got to where she is by being smart, for being the slow burning coal in a world of rampant inferno.  she’s the one that remembers to reduce the city to ashes when everything, everyone else desires chaos.
but maybe, perhaps, it’s being slow to act that’s the problem now.  her children are unhappy, and she ( the snakemother, how could she? be so quiet in a time of need ) hasn’t given them a clear objective -- this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong.  she feels the shaking of her world before it happens and eyes narrow in thought as her head twists -- deep in her belly, the snakes are slithering, angry and restless.  something is happening and she doesn’t know what.
she sees smoke before her companion does.  the curling of nicotine’s burn doesn’t match the dark in the backdrop and narrowed eyes become wide, her head is lifted from her knees in realization.  her children -- her children -- have done the things that she wouldn’t because ember just wanted to protect them for as long as she could, and now the city is burning.  this is what it’s like to taste poison rain.  she doesn’t think of it as betrayal, but rather, a matter of pride.
a snake’s smile crosses her lips.
brittle fingers curl tightly around yura -- her precious yura’s wrist, too tight to think of this as anything but a demand.  “ get in the car.  we’re driving.”
