[ There's little enough joy in the noises Bella refuses to make, yet which surge up her throat each time the air nearby is concussed by a projectile impact, or rent by an electric discharge. She stifles these would-be screams, first by clapping a hand over her mouth, then biting that self-same hand until she leaves deep red marks in her knuckles. It's not even that she's afraid of being heard - the drones have more means than that by which to find her - but to scream is to lose control. That she cannot afford, not even for and instant.
[ She's hurt, that much is plain - red spots the soot-smeared grey of her clothes - though not so badly that she cannot manage to scramble from wall to shattered wall. Indeed, what impedes her more than her injuries is the metal box she clutches to herself, with white knuckled intensity. Apparently unarmed, she avoids the fray as assiduously as possible, choosing the better part of valor at the first sign of conflict.
[ Thus even the sound of Horse's approach, crunch crunch across the rubble of crumbling Olympus, causes her to take cover at first. It is only after a considerable amount of huddling and a few furtive peeks that Bella raises an arm and flails it in the direction of the woman with the lightning rifle. ]
Re: Horse | OPEN | REAL & MATRIX
[ She's hurt, that much is plain - red spots the soot-smeared grey of her clothes - though not so badly that she cannot manage to scramble from wall to shattered wall. Indeed, what impedes her more than her injuries is the metal box she clutches to herself, with white knuckled intensity. Apparently unarmed, she avoids the fray as assiduously as possible, choosing the better part of valor at the first sign of conflict.
[ Thus even the sound of Horse's approach, crunch crunch across the rubble of crumbling Olympus, causes her to take cover at first. It is only after a considerable amount of huddling and a few furtive peeks that Bella raises an arm and flails it in the direction of the woman with the lightning rifle. ]
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