[Aubrey stops, dumbly, in the doorway. Stairs, tunnels, darkness, all the way down; a persistent itch gnawing at her arm that she’s trying her damndest to ignore—but whatever she expected in the end, it wasn’t this.
[It’s… normal. Almost.
[Finally, she swallows. Shoves her hands in torn pockets, crumpled sleeve be damned.]
It’s yours.
[Awe isn’t quite how the words come out, though they are quiet. And they’re not, somehow, afraid.]
no subject
[So, what do they do here?
[They live.
[Aubrey stops, dumbly, in the doorway. Stairs, tunnels, darkness, all the way down; a persistent itch gnawing at her arm that she’s trying her damndest to ignore—but whatever she expected in the end, it wasn’t this.
[It’s… normal. Almost.
[Finally, she swallows. Shoves her hands in torn pockets, crumpled sleeve be damned.]
It’s yours.
[Awe isn’t quite how the words come out, though they are quiet. And they’re not, somehow, afraid.]