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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Winsome Clark continued from Accidental Acrophobia))

When Winnie had first fled the scene in the woods, leaving behind guns and screaming students, there had been nothing on her mind but the all-consuming need to escape. Her headlong rush had taken her deeper into the trees, until eventually a tree root, sticking out at the perfect angle, had sent her careening into the ground. The indignity of falling combined with the rush of adrenaline through her veins and the still-open wound slicing across her chest overloaded her emotional barriers once more, and she curled into a tight ball, sobbing silently into her arms.

After that, things had changed.

Winnie drifted around the island, sticking to the woods, avoiding other students like the plague. Gunshots splitting the air would send her burrowing into the ground almost like an animal, using the drifts of old leaves, mulch, and tree branches to cover her body. She had lost her pack back at the tree she had fallen from, but she scavenged the water from another abandoned bag along with a loaf of bread. She was not particularly hungry, but recognized that at least a portion of the hollow, desperate feeling tightening her middle went away when she ate. The cut on her chest clotted, scabbed over, somehow escaping infection while still breaking open occasionally. The T-shirt Thea had given her hung loose on her tiny frame.

Now, somehow, she had emerged from the woods. She was exhausted. The sounds of fighting were more frequent, now, the announcements splitting the air loudly. Her water had finally run out - this day? The day before? She wasn't sure. She pushed limp, greasy hair out of her eyes, stumbling forwards. She could hear students up ahead, and the dry feeling in the back of her throat was driving her towards the sources of water. Perhaps she could steal a bag. Or just a bottle. Shouldn't join with them, bad things happen then.

Dirty, foot-sore, shirt stained with leaves and blood, Winnie slunk closer to the group, desperation outweighing the need for silence. Her lips parted and she made a soft, frantic noise, coming forwards another few feet.

Please let them not notice. Please...

marc st. yves
light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire
{food for thought}

phineas rosario
fall down seven times stand up eight

sebastian conway
can't see the forest for the trees
{book of sparrows}

(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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