[ The lack of sleep wasn't so difficult to deal with, in the beginning, exhaustion having always been a permanent facet in her life, like the bags beneath her eyes, but the days without sleep begin to take their toll. They leave her irrational and violent; emotional and easily overwhelmed. She handles it as best she can, distracts herself with paint and a brush, spends her time painting increasingly dark murals out in the city, but it never feels like it's enough.
It's as she paints that she hears Kain's war cry and she whips around, gripping her paintbrush like a knife, heart pounding, startled. She's ready to leap into action only to watch as the dragoon attacks empty space, nothing there. ]
Kain? [ She calls out to him, hesitant and afraid. What the fuck does he see? And is it real? ]
second prompt
It's as she paints that she hears Kain's war cry and she whips around, gripping her paintbrush like a knife, heart pounding, startled. She's ready to leap into action only to watch as the dragoon attacks empty space, nothing there. ]
Kain? [ She calls out to him, hesitant and afraid. What the fuck does he see? And is it real? ]