BE SO COLD | torture

[suvi.]

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— s͢uv̷i͡ ̷k̛iir͜a ó f͞a҉olá҉in | t̢àn̢glewo̧o̷̢d̷͢ | medic —

Gael Ó Broin.  Ó Broin.  Something familiar.  Uncertain.  The petite vixen blinked rapidly, unmatched hues flashing with doubt and panic.  He might have told that other fox to treat her but he meant no good will.  He's worse than Jervis.  In a way at least.

She winced sharply as she impacted the ground, scrambling up to wobbly paws as quickly as she could.  Her ears flattened sharply against her skull as he spoke.  Familiar accent.  Wrong face.  Her da ought to be coming for her... Surely.  The sawbone grit her teeth stubbornly, words building on her tongue.  Hopeful.  Maybe she could convince him to talk.  Find out who he was.  What made that name familiar? 

A message?  To the Typhoon?  Tanglewood?  What happened?  "Wai-" Breathe.  The air seemed to be disappearing.  No, no, no.  The fox barely had time to think before her body acted, seemingly dissolving in thin air as she lost corporeality.  Frustration burned in her chest.  "Stop."

Her breath left her in panicked gasps as she glitched only a few feet away, regaining her physical state.  "..."  He's going to make it worse.  "..." Embry may have nursed her back to health, but only just so.  She didn't know how many more glitches she could take before passing out again. 

Unstable, she snapped telepathically, y̶ou'̀͡r̸͏e ̶m̀͟ak̴̡̨i̸ǹ̢͢g̀ ̷͝it ̴ẃ̕ors̡e̡͡.  Worse, she projected outwardly, possibly inflicting headaches on any in close enough range.

— T͏O̴G͠ETH͏ER̕ ÁT̴ ̸T̕H̶E ST͏ART̶ O͏F̀ ̵TI̡M͏E —