(no subject)

[sheltering]

Why the long face, kid?

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[ratio]

[ She doesn't like talking. (He might take my tongue. Her tongue, her teeth or something worse; something like lungs, something she needs in order to survive.) She doesn't like looking people in the eyes. (He might be reminded how they're green at the center and amber at the edges and isn't that special.)

The stranger asks and Sedona looks away awkwardly, rubbing her forearm with her hand. (Don't look at me, don't look at me, don't look at me—)

She shrugs. ]