[ The sound startles her, though not to any noticeable degree. It's just — sharp, the way the colors of the apple suddenly seem to be. Vivid, bright, dangerous.
(Little mouse. The thing inside her bristles. But Wendy, for her part, takes it in stride. He's not wrong about what she is.) ]
—This way.
[ She gestures and begins walking at the same time; the option not to accompany him and merely give him directions never seems to occur to her. Yes, she lives here, she's lived here her whole life, but the days have been falling away until she no longer will. Because he's finally here.
As the heels of her shoes clack against the cobblestones, she casts a glance back at the stranger. ]
Is there a particular book you're looking for, sir?
no subject
(Little mouse. The thing inside her bristles. But Wendy, for her part, takes it in stride. He's not wrong about what she is.) ]
—This way.
[ She gestures and begins walking at the same time; the option not to accompany him and merely give him directions never seems to occur to her. Yes, she lives here, she's lived here her whole life, but the days have been falling away until she no longer will. Because he's finally here.
As the heels of her shoes clack against the cobblestones, she casts a glance back at the stranger. ]
Is there a particular book you're looking for, sir?