[Dead? Close enough to dead. The dripping, torn mass of it is just. Horrifying. And she has no idea what this thing is supposed to represent- what kind of fear, neurosis, or trauma that this personifies.
It's nothing but twisted wet sinew, organs and gore.
...the worst of the injuries in the trauma ward, then. It made sense- a horrific kind of sense. Elbow deep in entrails indeed.
It takes a long while for her to be able to hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears from the gunshots- but gradually, vaguely Clyde's panting registers. Hurt. He's hurt. The gun goes back in her shoulder holster and she turns to look.]
no subject
It's nothing but twisted wet sinew, organs and gore.
...the worst of the injuries in the trauma ward, then. It made sense- a horrific kind of sense. Elbow deep in entrails indeed.
It takes a long while for her to be able to hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears from the gunshots- but gradually, vaguely Clyde's panting registers. Hurt. He's hurt. The gun goes back in her shoulder holster and she turns to look.]
What hit you?