The Unraveling - It Spreads

The creaking and groaning of the ice around her had her flattening her ears straight to her skull. This was bad. It didn't bode well for the stability of the cavern. She'd been involved in enough spelunking expedition gone sideways to know now when to get out of dodge, and yet... the crowd waited. Makara wavered at the cave wall, about to take her leave before she saw her. Her. Her mother.

She parted her mouth to speak, and the ice above shattered in a tremendous crash. Makara pressed her body flush with the wall, panting hard. Small icicles danced and chimed off of the glass of her goggles as they fell, but they held true and served their purpose in protecting her eyes. When she opened them again, all the breath left in her lungs exited in one startled gasp. The air in front of her face crystalized with it. From the ceiling above hung a giant, pendulous, disgusting worm. Makara felt a distant flicker of interest still, but then her nose caught the rich scent of blood. It was heady and carnal against the delicate cold and her eyes roved between those gathered until it settled on her mother. Her mother. She had been struck by the falling ice and a nasty wound had opened up.

A squall of different feelings competed in her gut: anger. Fear. Anxiety. Fear. Fear. Pity. Hanako looked old now, weaker. Like something she had to protect. But had her mother ever protected her? Makara stood stock still, her eyes darting rapidly between the worm above and her injured, absentee mother. She was frozen to the spot.

Speech