[ She foregoes words from there, howling and screaming her way into the felled walker. It is darker there, musty, and it reeks of something sweet and charred. Kira reaches out to grab onto the entrance, her fingers scrabbling at the opening, bruising with the effort of resisting him.
But she is not a Sith assassin. She's just a child. The fight barely lasts a moment before she is pulled in with him, and at that moment, the door slams shut. She does not give up on throwing her fit.
The inner space has been made up into a home for one. A single hot plate, a cot that is worn beyond reasonable use, a withered flower, and tally after tally on the wall. A faint light illuminates it all, the yellow emergency light. Beneath it, beyond the half-table at which this hovel's occupant had once eaten, there is something else.
It would not be fair to say they looked human anymore. What lays there in the middle of the floor is charred beyond recognition, more ash and crisped leather than matter. ]
no subject
But she is not a Sith assassin. She's just a child. The fight barely lasts a moment before she is pulled in with him, and at that moment, the door slams shut. She does not give up on throwing her fit.
The inner space has been made up into a home for one. A single hot plate, a cot that is worn beyond reasonable use, a withered flower, and tally after tally on the wall. A faint light illuminates it all, the yellow emergency light. Beneath it, beyond the half-table at which this hovel's occupant had once eaten, there is something else.
It would not be fair to say they looked human anymore. What lays there in the middle of the floor is charred beyond recognition, more ash and crisped leather than matter. ]