a little unsteady

There's a cold fog. It's surrounded her, taken her away. She's so hard to reach in this state, even when she's not crumpled on your doorstep. It's surrounded her for days. It's chilly and unattainable, a feeling that only comes when there's nothing left to feel. A feeling that comes when she's entire devoid of everything, and there's nothing left to reach out for. Selene doesn't know what she's doing, but it doesn't matter. Sleep is fitful, uncomfortable, and inside her far too soon. Everything is disorienting. It's like the worst case of the spins, and then some. Detached.

From somewhere deep inside she can hear that voice... oh. The voice that was in her dreams usually. It's far away, so far... Selene can't quite grasp it. Cannot hold on, as she drifts and floats. It's something that she doesn't dare reach out for. No, that would be dangerous. So many times she's woken up in a cold sweat and he hasn't been there at all. Just a figment of her imagination, created by dreams and far away places. How strange it would be, after all, if he were to appear. Selene knows better than to fight the surging chill in her system. She would not do it.

But the recollection comes to her from somewhere not so far away. She'd come looking for it. The scorn of the moon had been looking for the man that happened to be the source of that voice... she knew it. It had to be. It takes most of her strength to fight away the fog, and there's a ragged gasp in her lungs as the starlit begins to wake. Like breaking through a sheet of ice, shivering... cold. Everything was cold, like she'd never be warm again. What was happening?

"What... where... why..." the words are disorienting, and she's confused. Everything is spinning, but she can see Lionel. Though her body shakes, though she shivers, Selene has come around to the best possible situation. Her vision is out of focus. Everything is unsteady, but she's alive. That's the first step.


"Speech."