The floor rushed to meet her, and Clementine braced silently. Whoever had grabbed her, she'd definitely made them let go.
Backing up against the wall, the kid whirled around and met eyes with Giffany.
F-Fuck... that drop brought her injured arm to burn again. It made the beaten kid cry out for just a second.
Fuck. She didn't mean to elbow her. This lady was a friend, as far as Clem knew.
Everything was just so fucking-... so hectic. Too many voices were calling at once, and she had a hard time focusing on even what Giffany had to say. That pain kept picking. Picking at her.
...Fire? What fire?
Oh, Clementine remembered; it felt like a million miles away at this point. Alot of things did.
At the very least, she wasn't alone. She knew how to take care of herself.
Focus. She was apologizing.
...For the fire? Well, it didn't seem to have spread, or else they would've all seen it by now. Nobody got hurt. Clementine didn't see the need to apologize.
The older teenager continued, and Clementine noticed something odd about her... well, besides her hair. And her clothes. And her voice. Or her eyes.
Her edges were fuzzy. They were hard to make out. Even when the girl took her hand and got back to her feet, it was still hard to focus on it.
Blinking, the eleven-year-old cleared her mind. Giffany asked her a question.
She was introducing herself again... did Clementine never really tell the girl her name?
"I'm Clementine." Her voice was strained, and the words almost came instinctively as she rose back to her feet.
Despite Giff's words, the little girl still held that pistol tight. Para was already turned and confronting this new face.
Something was off about them. Maybe it was just their expression, or the odd facepaint on their nose. Something about it told Clementine that she couldn't trust them. That she should keep them at the end of her gun.
But then Giffany's words came again. Clem remembered what she said.
This wasn't their new home. She wouldn't believe that. But maybe they could help eachother?
It sounded far-fetched; wishful thinking. Maybe it wouldn't be, though...
For now, the battered kid relented. Paracelsus seemed to have already asked questions.
Something about this seemed familiar. Like Clementine was on the other side of something. She could hardly even react to Giffany voicing her plans on Folkvar.
Something about it-... Something about this stung more fear into her heart.