westwhere | (no subject)

[Simply acquiring an embalmer's outfit and pretending to be an embalmer, Caitlyn has learned, doesn't work. No matter how many haughty airs one puts on to avoid questions, the guards will realize that someone who doesn't know the first thing about embalming is not who they claim to be.

She's sulking about it, and pondering alternative methods of getting in to see the body, when she receives a message from the Doctor. And that's certainly welcome. Not only will it be good to check on how he's doing, since she hasn't seen him at all since they arrived in Alem, but he'll surely be able to help her with her investigation.

So she waits impatiently at their agreed upon meeting place, still wearing embalmer's robes.]

[ There's been no shortage of worry for everyone here since arriving in Alem, though the Doctor has been particularly concerned for Caitlyn since a recent conversation with Vi. Well, he's worried about both of them—all of them—but there's been a string of murders and evidently, Vi's sister is unstable. Not that the timing of any such events would ever be good, but it's especially terrible now, in the midst of a siege.

Uncharacteristically, the Doctor actually arrives almost near about the time he'd said he would; there's nothing like a sense of urgency about someone's wellbeing to quicken one's steps. So when he sees Caitlyn—alive and well, thankfully—he'll smile and step closer, preparing to offer a hug. It's always a good time for one, right? ]

Caitlyn, there you are, excellent! And you're wearing—yes, right, of course. You would be. A clever ruse, good effort. Not to worry, we just need to rethink our strategy.

[ He, too, is sporting an embalmer's outfit, and he's already concocted a story in his head for getting both of them in there. Since she's attempted it already, he's sure he can spin it that his overeager trainee was simply hoping to help as quickly as possible. ]

Before we give it a go, you've been alright? As much as that's possible at the moment—you're safe?

[It is indeed always a good time for a hug, and Caitlyn returns the Doctor's enthusiastically.]

I'm doing alright, yes. And you?

[She has so much to tell him, so many important developments to discuss, but the first and most important thing is making certain that he hasn't fallen victim to any of the myriad dangers of Alem.]

[ He's relieved to see her alive and well, and equally glad for the hug, just to further reassure himself that she's safe. He just needs her to stay that way. ]

I'm always okay, promise. Though I did not fill in the little bubble on the survey form to pick this place as our next destination. For the record.

[ Not to make light of what they've gone through, but it is his way, in an attempt to comfort, to try and ease and uplift her spirits even if only briefly. ]

I don't think any of us did. [She gives him a rueful smile before launching into what she's particularly excited to talk about: her investigation.

And she has quite a lot to share.]

I've been working to catch the killer who's been on the loose here in the Wards. Five men have been murdered, each with no apparent cause of death and a white string tied around his wrist. And now you've heard of the sixth victim? [Clearly, since he's also here wearing embalmer's clothes.] Some here say that the white string is something that sirens wrap around the wrists of their intended.

[She continues eagerly, barely taking a breath as she flips through her notebook, showing him all the notes she's taken on the murders.]

There are also stories of a woman who Prince Deimar may have courting, who mysteriously disappeared. Several people here have told me that I resemble her, and a woman named Emilia also apparently resembles her. Last night Emilia and I were both taken by a group of guards down to one of the caves, the one with the creature living in the lake, and forced to stand in the water, as though they were expecting something to happen. Was this mysterious woman a siren, I wonder? Did the guards believe that either she or I could be this mysterious woman, and that the creature would react to us? Or perhaps that the water would have some effect on us?

Regardless of the intended outcome, I believe what happened to Emilia and I is connected to the string of murders.

[Caitlyn has never had a beer before. She's used to the finest wines and the most expensive whiskey and brandy in her parents' liquor cabinet, not this... swill. The smell and taste are both overwhelmingly repugnant, and even the feel of it in her stomach is, well, stomach-churning. But she's chugging her third of the evening before slamming the tankard down on the table and demanding another.

An arm-wrestling challenge soon follows, which she near-instantly loses to a man built like the beer keg her fourth drink comes out of. And soon after that, fourth drink in hand, she's up on the table, arm-in-arm with the man who beat her at arm-wrestling, dancing some sort of jig while somebody loudly saws away at a fiddle.]

[ Clara considers Caitlyn a friend, and by now, she feels like she knows her well enough. Well enough, at least, to know she isn't a beer-chugging arm wrestler.

What the hell?

She doesn't seem to be in danger, but it's not her. Clara makes her way over, glaring at someone who gets in her way. She's small, but intimidating when she's worried. ]

Caitlyn!

[ She shouts to be heard over the noise, and when that doesn't work, she brings out her very loud, stern, teacher voice. ]

Get down off the table right now.

[ She isn't angry, just worried Caitlyn is going to drunkenly fall and break her neck. Then what are they gonna do? ]

[Caitlyn doesn't see or hear Clara at first - a head taller than Clara even when they're on flat ground, now that she's up on a table Clara is well below her eyeline. But the stern voice reminds her enough of her mother to immediately cut through the fiddle music and the sound of her own feet stomping.]

Clara! [The burly fellow twirls her around, momentarily breaking her eye contact with Clara, as the fiddle music continues.

This a friend of yours, love? he asks.

Caitlyn nods.] Yes. [To Clara, she says:] You should join us up here!

[Why did she say that? She didn't really mean to. Ever since her excursion to the Room of Seals, she's been having urges and compulsions that she can only assume are a result of whatever deal she may have inadvertently made by agreeing to give something sanctuary. It's like there's someone else in her head with her, and that person wants nothing so much as to drink, dance, and be merry.]

What? No, I should no—

[ Before she can say anything else, she's being hoisted up and the burly guy easily brings her the rest of the way onto the table. She weighs nearly nothing, so it didn't take much effort. At least now she can see Caitlyn up close, and Clara grabs her hand. ]

You seem like you've had a lot to drink.

[ She's eying her, one eyebrow raised. Not in mom shame, but in friend concern. ]

I'm quite alright! I've only had a few beers.

[Three glasses of the stuff in quick succession does have her feeling a little light-headed, but any desire to stop has been overriden. In fact, there's a beer in her hand right now, isn't there? She ought to be drinking more.

So she does, taking a swig large enough to have caused an international incident if she'd done it in front of her mother.

The burly man claps her on the back before whirling both her and Clara around, clearly eager to continue the jig.]

Have you had anything to drink, Clara? The beer's quite good!

[It's not, it's awful. But that feeling in her head insists it's wonderful, really, and she's enjoying it, and her friends should be enjoying themselves too.]

I can smell the beer all around me, and I'm highly doubting it tastes very good.

[ She gets caught up in the jig, her fear of falling not abated in any way. She yelps just a little when she feels like she might slip, and the crowd hollers and shoots when she instinctively presses closer to the burly man.

He's being a gentleman, all things told, and she finally relents. ]

I'll have one drink with you. Just one!

[Caitlyn reaches out to catch Clara in case she falls, but Clara manages to catch herself, so instead she just grins at her friend before cheering and calling for another drink. A beer is quickly supplied for Clara.

She clanks her own tankard against the burly man's, then against the one that's being shoved at Clara.]

Cheers!

[She flings her head back and downs nearly the entirely beer in one gulp. And then she turns and plants a kiss on the burly man. Which is odd, because kissing complete strangers - even friendly kisses just for fun - is not something she does. There's only one person she wants to be kissing, and Vi's not here.

The crowd erupts again. The burly man turns to Clara and says, shouting to be heard over the music and hollers, Your friend's had at least one too many. Make sure she gets back to her bunk safe, yeah?]

[ The beer is awful, and Clara only manages a couple of sips. She has to draw the line at kissing random men, and she looks at the burly man. He's been decent, and she nods, smiling just a touch. ]

Hey, Caitlyn! Let's put that energy into kissing Vi! Remember her? Love letters and feelings and wanting to be with Vi? C'mon, let's go walk and talk about her. Tell me everything.

[ Finers crossed this tactic works, she has no idea if it will appeal to Caitlyn's sober instincts or not. But she has to try! She fancies herself strong, but not big enough to support a totally tits-up woman. ]

[The part of Caitlyn that still feels like Caitlyn would like nothing more than to talk about Vi. Or find Vi. But the compulsion that's been directing her to get drunk and dance on tables just wants to keep the party going.]

I've spent my whole life only ever allowed to do what my parents deemed 'proper.' [That much is true, though it still seems to be coming from that feeling in her head.]

And I'd like very much... [To catch a serial killer, which her parents would never approve of her doing, and kiss a girl she truly likes rather than some vapid heiress chosen by her mum.] It's as though there's something. In my head. That wants nothing more than to have one good night of revelry.

[ Clara raises her eyebrows, remembering something, but not fully. It's been a long few weeks, she can't absorb it all. But still, now she's pretty sure something's happening because of this place. ]

You have a human body that can't drink much more or you'll have alcohol poisoning. If what's in your head can hear me, there's not much revelry to be had if you die.

[ She can't be sure how much Caitlyn's had to drink prior to her own arrival. If they were someplace normal, she'd take her to clubs and let her dance her heart out. ]

Your parents have too many rules for you, but they aren't even on this planet so really, you can do whatever you want, anytime you want. Not just when there's a ghost in your head or something.

I don't think I can. I don't think they can. [She quickly corrects herself. Of course Clara's right that Caitlyn can do whatever she likes here, but the same isn't true of whatever she's sharing her head with.

She leans in closely, aiming to whisper in Clara's ear but instead accidentally knocking her forehead into Clara's nose and saying in a whisper loud enough to be heard on the other side of the room,] I suspect they're dead.

Besides, I've only had four beers. [Said like someone with a much higher tolerance for alcohol than Caitlyn, who's only ever indulged in a small glass of sherry or a finger of brandy after dinner and has never in her life been properly drunk before.] Come on, Clara, dance with me.

[She flings an arm around Clara's waist and tries to spin her around, and would have spun herself right off the table if not for the burly man grabbing the back of her shirt as though he were grabbing a kitten by the scruff of its neck.]

[ They're going with possessed, then. All that Clara can do is make sure Caitlyn doesn't wind up hurt on the ground or hurling her guts up. Or maybe she can figure out how to get whatever is in her out?

She's trying to figure out what the right thing to do might be when Caitlyn's head knocks into Clara's nose and she brings up her hands to press on either side, rubbing away the pain. Then, before she can make much of a decision at all, she's in Caitlyn's arms and she spins, looking at the burly man gratefully.

It'd be so much more fun if she wasn't being controlled by something or someone! Clara decides maybe she should at least bargain to get off of the tables. ]

I'll dance with you and even get your next drink if we can dance on the ground. Please?

[Despite how carefully the burly man sets her down on the ground, Caitlyn momentarily loses her balance and stumbles into the table. But it's a minor setback before she's making an uncoordinated and not particularly successful effort to clamber up again.]

The table's much more fun, don't you think?

Nope. I do not. I'm staying right here.

[ She looks at the burly man to please help her by not enabling anymore and reaches out to take Caitlyn's arm. ]

As your friend? I think you should drink some water and sit down.

[ Does wahtever's inside Caitlyn have ulterior motives? Will it hurt her, or let her get hurt? Clara can't let that happen. ]

[Caitlyn has the sudden urge to say 'you're not my mum,' which would be very petty and childish and not at all the sort of thing she'd be inclined to say. But before the words can leave her lips, she's struck with an overwhelming wave of sadness.

She sinks down into a chair.]

I miss my mum. [Is that her talking, or the person sharing her head? Maybe it's both. She'd give anything to see her mum again, but she also gets the sense that they miss their mum too.

Someone with an overbearing, overprotective mum who, when everything goes wrong, they realize really loves them and who they desperately miss? Perhaps there's a reason this dead person decided to haunt her.]

We should find my mum.

[She stands up, only to have the room suddenly spin out of control and crash into Clara.]

I suspect. [Said with the too-perfect diction of someone having to work hard not to slur their words.] I may be inebriated.

[ Before she can explain why that's not possible, Clara does her best to catch Caitlyn, and she winds up half holding her around the waist, planting her feet so she can support her friend. ]

Caitlyn, and whoever else is in there, I don't think your mum's here. But tell me about her. Tell me everything you miss about your mum, and I'll tell you everything I miss about mine.

[ The promise is out of her mouth before she can think about it. She just wants to get somewhere relatively safe, where there's no alcohol and no high counters. She makes sure they're both as steady as they can be. ]

C'mon. Please?

[Caitlyn nods. And then she nods again because she's not sure whether she nodded the first time. Is she standing upright?

She sinks back down into a seat.

Caitlyn doesn't talk about herself much. She prefers action to talk, and if someone has to talk about themselves, she prefers to listen to other people do it. Talking about something as personal as her mother certainly doesn't come easily.]

My mum was. Is. [Her mum's not dead. The person in her head, is their mum dead?] She never let me do anything that I wanted to do. She always said it wasn't proper or that it was beneath me or it was too dangerous. All I wanted was to be-- [An enforcer. A paladin. It's confusing, having a voice in her head whose life echoes so much of her own.] I wanted to help people. I didn't care whether it was dangerous. [She liked the danger.

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the person sharing her head, but the words start to come easier, and as she says them, she feels as though a weight begins to lift.]

She never. The last time I saw her... [The siege. The Council meeting. Her thoughts, even under the best of circumstances, sometimes zip by too fast for her to catch them, and now she has someone else's thoughts in her head and everything's topsy-turvy from all the beer and she can't remember what happened the last time she saw her mum.] She hardly ever told me she loved me. But she showed it. She. She used to sit with me when I was sick. All night with me. She never cried, because tears are unbecoming, but when I did she always held me until they'd run their course. She hated getting her hands dirty, but she. When I fell and scraped my knees.

[She finished that sentence, right?]

Tell me about your mum.

Edited 2023-03-14 04:55 (UTC)

[ It's hard for Clara to know for sure if all the words are Caitlyn's or her unwanted, internal guest. But she listens all the same and feels the emotion of it. Their experiences were vastly different back in their homes, but she likes to think she still understands, at least a little. Reaching out, she takes Caitlyn's hand, and looks at her intently but with such kindness. She's trying to see through to the paladin inside and her friend. ]

Mums want more for us, even if we don't see eye to eye about it. It's okay to have complicated feelings, even feelings that contradict one another. Annoyed and appreciative can go hand and hand. You can even be angry while still knowing deep down you need your mum, opposing ideas or not. But if she kissed your knees and dried your tears, then I promise she loves you and always will, no matter how you clash.

[ Taking a deep breath, Clara lets it out and squeezes Caitlyn's hand, smiling softly before putting her hands in her lap. ]

She was my favorite person in the world. After I graduated uni, we were gonna travel and go to all the places where the greatest wonders of the ancient world used to be. She taught me how to make a souffle and Christmas cookies. But before she—before she died, she hated that I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, she thought I wasn't serious enough sometimes. She loved me, though, and she showed it a lot.

[ Clara hadn't decided on teaching until after her mum's death, and after traveling with the Doctor for a while. There's a lump in her throat that she swallows down before finding her voice again. ]

Where's your mum?

[ It's a soft question, and she's asking whatever's inside, since this is their world. ]

[Caitlyn smiles softly and squeezes Clara's hand back, grateful to have a friend to talk to who understands. And she knows the person in her head is grateful too.

She listens quietly to Clara speaking, and once she's done, she throws her arms around Clara's shoulders, holding her tightly.]

I'm sorry you lost her. I think their mum might be dead too. [It's a bit hazy, but the sorrow she's feeling isn't purely empathy for Clara.]

[ Clara holds onto Caitlyn, and maybe she's trying to hold onto the sad spirit inside of her, too. They seem lost, and she wonders if the partying was a way to cope—she understands that. ]

When mine died, I went a little...out of character. I partied and stayed out and made very questionable choices. So if that's how they feel, I understand. It doesn't help, though, and it's okay to be sad.

[ She feels like maybe she's laying it on thick, but oh well. Maybe the ghost (?) needs to hear it. ]

I'm sorry they lost their mom, too.

[Caitlyn feels a sort of relief wash over her, and she hugs Clara more tightly. She's trying hard to hold onto the thread of the conversation, but thanks to the drink, all she can really hold in her head is that everyone's mum is dead, she misses her own mum, and she's devastated about all of it.]

I think your mum would be really proud, Clara.

Yours too. You and the spirit with you. [ Whatever it is. ]

Mums can be so tricky sometimes, but they're still ours in the end, yeah?

[ For better or worse, they must deal with the parents they're given. But she thinks in Caitlyn's case there's love, based on what she's said. Letting go, Clara smiles enough to look happy again. ]

What else can I do for you and your tagalong? That does not involve alcohol!

Yeah.

[Caitlyn pulls back, but doesn't let go of Clara's shoulders. She might lose her balance if she does.

What to do now? Caitlyn, addled with drink, thinks that this is the perfect opportunity to go hunting in the glacial lakes for a serial killer, or in the mines for a secret back entrance to Rathakku's camp.

The ghost sharing her head latches onto the idea of the glacial lakes and decides that there's a lot more fun to be had there than chasing after a murderer. Something to get all their minds off their sorrows.]

I think we should go skinny-dipping. [That thought definitely did not originate from Caitlyn. It takes her a long moment to even process that it came out of her mouth.]

[ Right now, skinny-dipping is better thank drinking. And she's done her fair share of drunk lake trips with friends. There's just one small thing. ]

Could you please ask if it understands we have physical bodies and will freeze to death in that water? I've been in the cold water, trust me, it isn't fun.

[ She shivers at the memory. ]

Anything else. Except drinking. Is there a hot spring we don't know about, maybe?

[ She's being sort of cheeky, but also, that'd be amazing. ]

[The disappointment Caitlyn feels is palpable, even if it isn't her own.

But then, Clara suggests a hot spring, and while neither Caitlyn nor the ghost knows of any of those, the ghost does have a suggestion.

She leans in as though to whisper conspiratorially.]

I know of a swimming pool. [She's not at all whispering.] Up in the Keep. It would certainly be empty at this hour.

[ Clara can't help but laugh, because drunk friends are hilarious friends. But she manages to stifle it, clearing her throat. What the hell, if no one will get hurt, if it is safe. ]

Tell your paladin to lead the way then. As long as it's safe, and you Caitlyn, don't mind the idea of skinny dipping.

[ They're friends, she doesn't want her to feel any sort of awkward later. ]

[Internally, Caitlyn is blushing furiously at the idea of skinny dipping. But there is a treacherous little part of her that's curious. She's never done anything so, well, scandalous before. Sober, without a ghost in her head egging her on, she would probably be too embarrassed to ever do it. But now, as it is, that little part of her wants to find out what it's like.

And the ghost certainly doesn't need encouraging. Before she knows it, she's grabbing Clara's hand and striding confidently in the wrong direction before stumbling to a halt, turning around once or twice, and putting an arm around Clara's shoulders to steady herself.]

It's that way. [She doesn't point in any particular direction, and it takes her a moment to start walking.

A thought occurs.] Should we get another drink to go?

[ Now that they aren't on tables, Clara feels more relaxed but still protective, though she lets Caitlyn/her ghost friend lead her around. There are times she laughs under her breath, but she's there as support, every time. ]

A drink to go, huh?

[ Caitlyn absolutely does not need more alcohol. ]

After, let's aim for after. Swimming might...you know. Sober us up.

[ Boy is she hoping not to have to argue on this one. She doesn't want her friend to be sick and full of regret later. ]

[The ghost groans in disappointment, and Caitlyn only realizes on a delay that the sound actually came out of her mouth. But they're still walking, and at this point they're probably too far away to go back and get a drink.

Unless...

She turns around, and almost walks directly into a wall.

What was she doing again?

Oh. Right. Swimming pool.]

Swimming pool. This way. [She grabs Clara's hand and guides her in a direction. It's a meandering path, and she's stumbling and leaning on Clara plenty, but they'll get there in the end.]

[Caitlyn hasn't slept a wink. How could she? After being kidnapped in the middle of the night, forced to stand in a frigid lake while wondering whether she was about to be eaten by a sea serpent, interrogating the guards... of course she stayed up all night, staring at the maps Kahl had drawn her, rearranging all of her notes and then rearranging them again, turning each clue over and over in hear head until it ceased to have any meaning.

She needs to speak with Emilia again. There's more to find in that cave, there's more that they haven't thought of yet.

Gathering her rifle, torch, and notebook, she runs off in search of Emilia.]

( A fatigue sickness overcame Emilia, left her vulnerable to a kidnapping that otherwise might not have been. She feels much more like herself the next day, but the events of last night — the disjointed clues they've since collected — turn over in her own head.

If she's surprised that Caitlyn has come to find her, she tries not to show it. But Emilia is aware her reaction to the guards was far more ... severe. And still not as bad as it could've been, had she been at her full power. They gave them no answers as is.

She takes one look at Caitlyn, the things she's brought with. )

You want to go back, too.

Edited 2023-02-21 03:58 (UTC)

Yes. [Caitlyn agrees eagerly. She's got her notebook clutched to her chest with both hands, torch strapped to the rifle case on her back, and is practically rocking forward on the balls of her feet with how keen she is to further explore the cave.]

Things last night became heated so quickly, and we weren't in the best mindset to investigate. I'm sure that there'll be more to find if we return.

And we've no time to waste.

( Emilia nods both her agreement and willingness. Though she'd been sick last night, she still remembers the corridor through which they were taken to the glacier lake, and falls into step beside Caitlyn to head in this direction. ) Are you all right?

Yes, of course.

[Why shouldn't she be alright? She's laser-focused on the mystery and her own well-being is at most a secondary concern. The only reason she wouldn't be alright if she were too sick or injured to be able to walk or talk or think.

She hurries alongside Emilia.]

And you? You seemed unwell last night.

[She's much more concerned about Emilia than about herself.]

Edited 2023-02-23 02:23 (UTC)

( Emilia grits her teeth at the reminder, anger aimed toward the source and not Caitlyn. She despises being made weak, especially in times where her strength is needed most. They are so vulnerable to this world, and she never forgets it. )

Alem is full of hauntings. I don't know if you've heard the footfalls at night, or seen the mountain bleed. A fatigue came over me suddenly, not long before we were taken. The soldiers have spoken of it.

( That it comes and goes, inexplicably. )

I feel perfectly fine now, as though nothing happened.

Yes, I've heard chains rattling and felt as though I were being watched when I was completely alone. [She says it softly, frowning, not wanting to let on how unnerved she's found these hauntings. Best to focus on the goal ahead rather than worrying about something like that.

So instead of dwelling on it, she quickens her pace and changes the subject.]

I wonder whether what happened to us is related to the murders. One of the primary theories regarding the white string on the victims' wrists relates to a siren, and that those guards seemed to think that forcing us to stand in water would produce some effect. Sirens are water creatures, after all. [It may be a bit of a tenuous connection, but it does seem worth considering.]

The prince is excessively preoccupied with feet, to that end.

( Perhaps because the woman has a tail half the time? )

Those guards had us step into the lake expecting something to happen. A transformation.

( It's difficult not to be swayed by the siren explanation, but Emilia does want to look into every possibility. There are still clues to chase, and with that in mind, she quickens her step alongside Caitlyn. She only brings herself to a stop when they reach the lake.

When she sees the creature and its seemingly lifeless state. ) Caitlyn...

Yes, that's what I--

[She's so preoccupied thinking about sirens and this mysterious woman that she doesn't notice the dead creature until she hears her name and looks up.

Immediately, she pulls out her rifle, just in case there's some threat here - either from the creature or from whatever did this to it. But just as quickly she runs towards the creature, circling around until she can see its face. Its eyes are filmed over, staring emptily at nothing, and its tongue is lolling out of its mouth.]

It's dead.

( Her jaw clenches.

Not for the first time, it feels they're a step too late, but Emilia catches up to Caitlyn.

The corpse reeks, but she's withstood worse. She forces herself to inch closer, her hand outstretched toward it. Though she does not make contact with it, a rose-gold hue rises around the side of the corpse like a tangle of thorny vines. )

It feels the same as the body of the first victim I was able to look over. Vataz, as well.

( Whoever, whatever, killed this creature, was involved with all the rest. )

[Caitlyn scowls down at the ground, frustrated with herself for not having come back here sooner and frustrated with the feeling of being no closer to catching this killer even after weeks of work and sleepless nights.]

What purpose would anyone have for killing it? Did it know something? Was it guarding something? Did it possess something of import?

[And how is its death connected to the murder of those men and the mysterious vanished woman?

She frowns and steps away from the creature, both to escape the scent and to look for clues, footprints, anything that might indicate that someone else came down here since last night.]

( Did it possess something of import?

Emilia turns that over in her head. It was difficult enough to find a pattern with the previous victims, but now a royal and a creature are dead. What do they all have in common? If she was pressed to answer... ) A life force?

It truly feels as though this body was drained of everything. Whoever is killing them, does it need to?

( To survive?

As Caitlyn steps away, Emilia turns back to the creature, mourning the answers it took with it. )

[The lakeside is discouragingly bare, but Caitlyn investigates regardless, retracing the faint remnants of the guards' footsteps, the place she and Emilia waded into and out of the lake, looking for even the slightest hint and finding nothing.]

Or those scales. It seemed protective of them.

Of them, or whomever they belonged to.

( The missing woman is her guess, even as she can't help considering if they are truly scales or mirror shards or something else they've yet to identify in this godsforsaken world. ) It seemed young, didn't it? The creature.

It's hard to say. [She can recognize the difference between a young deer and an older one, but a lake monster? Emilia's right though, it doesn't have the signs of aging she'd expect from an older animal.

She circles back around to its front, frowning at the smell.

The teeth don't look very worn or discolored, no missing scales that she can see. If she had to guess, it does look fairly young.]

I wonder how it came here in the first place.

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for the Doctor

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for Clara

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sorry for the delay! work's been crazy

never any worries there, I get it!

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sorry for my slowness!

no worries at all!

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for Emilia (forward dated to Feb. 26th)

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