[ She looks up when he speaks, although she knew he was there, knew he was coming before he was even close enough to see. There's something disorienting about the time and place of all this... The clamor of voices and the sickening dread exuding from her pores is all too familiar, back to when they had first awoken. He had been the first. The first of the brood she had touched, the first on the hosts she had touched with her fear. This gaudy place is not alike the sterile white of the nest. She purses her lips. ]
How have things changed so much already.
[ Her lashes are damp, but it is far more likely to be the cold sweat dripping from her brow than tears with her. ]
/even later
How have things changed so much already.
[ Her lashes are damp, but it is far more likely to be the cold sweat dripping from her brow than tears with her. ]