There's something here, a pattern, a motive, a rationale and an explanation, and she can't see it. She can't find it, she can't even feel what direction to stumble in. She sees everything around her, she can feel it and smell it and none of it is forming any sort of cohesive thing she can grasp.
She doesn't understand. Not anything. But she understands keeping watch, even as she makes a soft, unhappy sound. She doesn't want to watch for Finnick, she wants to cling to him so he never vanishes again.
But she can keep watch. In the doorway. That way she can... she can keep him in her sphere as long as she can.
"Okay," Annie says, her voice as small and unhappy as her unconscious sound of protest.
Still, training is training is training, and she stands at the front door, East in her arms, as she glances between the main living space and the outside as Finnick pokes around the thing that might be their house.
no subject
There's something here, a pattern, a motive, a rationale and an explanation, and she can't see it. She can't find it, she can't even feel what direction to stumble in. She sees everything around her, she can feel it and smell it and none of it is forming any sort of cohesive thing she can grasp.
She doesn't understand. Not anything. But she understands keeping watch, even as she makes a soft, unhappy sound. She doesn't want to watch for Finnick, she wants to cling to him so he never vanishes again.
But she can keep watch. In the doorway. That way she can... she can keep him in her sphere as long as she can.
"Okay," Annie says, her voice as small and unhappy as her unconscious sound of protest.
Still, training is training is training, and she stands at the front door, East in her arms, as she glances between the main living space and the outside as Finnick pokes around the thing that might be their house.