( december 1st )

[firegap]

They have had the moat filled in.

Moving through earth is tiresome and suffocating, she would rather drown three times over in water every night than drag herself through the dirt of times to which she doesn't belong. It tastes stale on her tongue when she breathes, crumbling down her throat, dusting her lungs. The earth is heavy where it sticks to her garments, caking in every little crease and seam. Where she treads, it turns to mud.

She always awakens in a grave that isn't truly hers, it's not wet enough by far anymore.