we're always running scared but holding knives
Forcing out a shuddering breath that she's been holding, Isla is caught in the wendigo's gold-ringed stare, trying to distance herself both from everything she's dying to ask, to record, to test, and also from the unbridled intimacy of such a moment. Only when Remi successfully withdraws the tip of her finger from his waiting tongue and teeth does she dare to speak again, and even then it's a quiet, measured sound she barely recognises.
"I trust you," she says, as if to reiterate the fact. "There's a small first aid kit in my bag. Is it safe for me to go and get it?" If it safe for her to even still be in the room, given that she's literally fed a wendigo's bloodlust - and he's not even been able to top up properly with the IV first, either.
"I trust you," she says, as if to reiterate the fact. "There's a small first aid kit in my bag. Is it safe for me to go and get it?" If it safe for her to even still be in the room, given that she's literally fed a wendigo's bloodlust - and he's not even been able to top up properly with the IV first, either.
Isla
