[The breeze from the water of the docks flutters over Throné's face, cooling the heat of nerves there. She's in her clothes again, but she's barefoot. Beneath the left food, she can feel the dock, the air, the solidness below.
Beneath the right, she can feel the pressure of the ground and a strange electrifying sensation of life.
The right leg from toes to thigh is purple, bizarre flesh molded by the Core, twisted together with shards of the brace. But it feels different, she thinks. It doesn't feel like the lame leg she had.
She has never before moved faster than a walk in her life. Any attempt to run resulted in a fall, and so she had never bothered trying. Her chest is tight, full of apprehension. She's worried... it won't work. She's worried the leg is not only bad now, but hideous. But when she puts the foot solidly down, she realizes...
It was worth it. The price paid. It had worked.
Feeling the wind whip past as she picks up momentum, even stumbling at the start. Running full force down the docks through the night, feeling her lungs burn wonderfully from the exertion of knowing she's running. She's ripping away from the deformity, the restriction. She's free. She's so free she screams into the night.
In the breathless aftermath, she is tired, but alive. She can hear a voice through the lapping water saying,]
Throné? Throné...?
[When she opens her eyes, Viktor is looking back at her, concerned.]
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Beneath the right, she can feel the pressure of the ground and a strange electrifying sensation of life.
The right leg from toes to thigh is purple, bizarre flesh molded by the Core, twisted together with shards of the brace. But it feels different, she thinks. It doesn't feel like the lame leg she had.
After a moment, she releases the crutch and let's it fall away from her.
She has never before moved faster than a walk in her life. Any attempt to run resulted in a fall, and so she had never bothered trying. Her chest is tight, full of apprehension. She's worried... it won't work. She's worried the leg is not only bad now, but hideous. But when she puts the foot solidly down, she realizes...
It was worth it. The price paid. It had worked.
Feeling the wind whip past as she picks up momentum, even stumbling at the start. Running full force down the docks through the night, feeling her lungs burn wonderfully from the exertion of knowing she's running. She's ripping away from the deformity, the restriction. She's free. She's so free she screams into the night.
In the breathless aftermath, she is tired, but alive. She can hear a voice through the lapping water saying,]
Throné? Throné...?
[When she opens her eyes, Viktor is looking back at her, concerned.]
Are you alright?