[ manuela flinches back out of reflex — for a second it had seemed as if those vines might sprout out and reach for her — but upon seeing them settle along his arm like some organic type of armor, she relaxes visibly. ]
I'd say it does, [ comes her wry remark. boldly (or perhaps foolishly) she reaches out, dragging a nail along the grain. ]
Can it be hurt, too? And would you feel it as if it were your own flesh?
no subject
I'd say it does, [ comes her wry remark. boldly (or perhaps foolishly) she reaches out, dragging a nail along the grain. ]
Can it be hurt, too? And would you feel it as if it were your own flesh?