That's. . . probably the wiser decision. Between bugs and enchantments planted all around the city, you never know what might overhear you.

[ practicing irons out the shakiness -- it's what, root knows, experience is supposed to do. but the air's all empty, beat after beat, and her tongue scrapes against her teeth like sand.

she closes her eyes. the smile, at least, is audible. ]

How's the head?