[She whimpers at the cold, strains and twists - not struggling to get out of his hold, just keeping her gaze out on the dark, like there's in fishhook inside her eyes, line pulled taut. And then when she slips, hands scrabbling for spikes, when the bulk of shoulder and pauldron momentarily cuts the line, she sags, breath heaving out of her, presses her cheek against a cold metal skull embossed on the armor, eyes scrunched shut, all the fight gone out of her.]
Hide me. Hide me.
[A whisper, a plea, almost a meaningless mantra, in time with his boots. When they go below decks - she wouldn't be safe, safe is an empty word, a sound with no referent in the real or imaginable, but she will not be compelled to behold them any more, the vast old things that lurk beyond their little passage.]
Deck
Hide me. Hide me.
[A whisper, a plea, almost a meaningless mantra, in time with his boots. When they go below decks - she wouldn't be safe, safe is an empty word, a sound with no referent in the real or imaginable, but she will not be compelled to behold them any more, the vast old things that lurk beyond their little passage.]