elena's as huddled as she can be in her jacket and tank top, her arms now tucked against her chest. she's tired of seeing silhouettes in the woods. she's been out here for what feels like hours, her pants wet, particles of snow in her hair. her skin feels too cold and she thinks she could really be dead. the snow is thick and cold, and the blood and open wound on her neck stings and feels heavier than it should.
she expects the rock to go right through him, but when it seems to hit between his shoulders, elena frowns. panic is slow to swirl in her gut—her insides are frozen, too—but she does consider where she can run to hide and finds... nothing.
it's not a back she recognises. for one, his hair isn't floppy. ]
into the endless
elena's as huddled as she can be in her jacket and tank top, her arms now tucked against her chest. she's tired of seeing silhouettes in the woods. she's been out here for what feels like hours, her pants wet, particles of snow in her hair. her skin feels too cold and she thinks she could really be dead. the snow is thick and cold, and the blood and open wound on her neck stings and feels heavier than it should.
she expects the rock to go right through him, but when it seems to hit between his shoulders, elena frowns. panic is slow to swirl in her gut—her insides are frozen, too—but she does consider where she can run to hide and finds... nothing.
it's not a back she recognises. for one, his hair isn't floppy. ]