[He grabs her hand without warning, and there’s an instinctive tensing — likely with the intent on tossing Richie like a bean-bag — but she freezes when the world shifts around them. Green replaced with grey in a way that felt alien yet familiar all at once, and along with it, the invisible magical influence of Josa forest.
Her eyes are wide, breath caught in her throat as, all at once, her world feels tilted from under her feet. Without thinking about it, she has a hand wrapped around Richie’s wrist like an anchor. It’s not so much that her memories snap back immediately, but there’s a disorienting moment where her fabricated memories are mixing with what’s real.]
Richie…?
[Her voice is uneven, confused. But she recognizes him, memories of hot chocolate and record players filtering over visions of her supposed life in the forest.]
no subject
Her eyes are wide, breath caught in her throat as, all at once, her world feels tilted from under her feet. Without thinking about it, she has a hand wrapped around Richie’s wrist like an anchor. It’s not so much that her memories snap back immediately, but there’s a disorienting moment where her fabricated memories are mixing with what’s real.]
Richie…?
[Her voice is uneven, confused. But she recognizes him, memories of hot chocolate and record players filtering over visions of her supposed life in the forest.]