[The echo of the connection feels like something shredding at the edges of her. For a moment it weakens her through the knee, has her shoulder sloping ungainly and loosens all her joints - like she is in a place, a body, a universe that is only tentatively held together. For a moment sinew and muscle and bone feel inconsequential to structure. Then she locks her knee, one then the other, and draws in a few breaths to steady herself. Her hands are at her middle, palms pressed flat like she means to hold her guts in somehow. Cathaway forces those to a more natural position too.]
There. [She smooths her hair back from her forehead.] Do you begin to understand?
no subject
There. [She smooths her hair back from her forehead.] Do you begin to understand?