Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-8723280-20140419193959/@comment-8723280-20140419214422

''Why? Why did he shoot Aunt Pollila... She was suppose to be a hero, the best Huntress that she ever knew, wh-''

The voice in her head stopped as she felt arms curve around her body, warm human arms. The contact was now, not in the past - those vicious memories that she thought hadn't affected her as deeply as now. She had initially let out a choked scream - her throat was tightening, dry, leaving her like Ambrose was - but all the noises now were just sobs and the crying in despair.

Why was he hugging her, trying to comfort her when he had done the damage and left her in this current, messy state? The question was stupid, she knew the reason and yet her brain couldn't accept it. And yet as the noises turned to silent sobs, tears and wet plastered to her face, she turned towards his body for comfort nonetheless. Any comfort was better than none and it was warm - safe. No, no, not safe. How could it be safe if he had shot towards her? She agreed with warmth. And softness, the softness of his body as her hands were now clinging to his t-shirt and her chest pressed up against his chest.

Back and forth, back and forth. She imagined her mom would've have comforted her like that when she was child - if she had survived. And that thought was pleasing.