Even as Besca held on, Quinn [i]strained[/i] fruitlessly against her. Still in the throes of a hysterical breakdown, she fixed Besca with a wild, unblinking eye.

In between screams—[i]“[COLOR=FFE63D]IT NEEDS TO HAVE BOTH EYES![/COLOR]”[/i]—almost inhuman noises, strangled guttural things, burst from her throat, and her hands curled into twitching claws. She tore the right from her forehead, leaving a furrow above her brow as she clutched at Besca's arm. She caught the shoulder of her shirt instead, and wrapped her hand into it so tightly that stitches started to snap and pop. [b][i]“[COLOR=FFE63D]IT NEEDS TO![/COLOR]”[/i][/b]

Time ran together like ink into water and lost its cohesion. She didn't know how long she was there pinned against Besca, one hand gripping her shirt like a vise and the other held around the wrist and twisted into warped talons. It could have been hours; it could have been just a minute, or even less.

The she heard footsteps and Dahlia's voice. Recognized the concern and borderline [i]fear[/i] in Besca's eyes. The taste of [i]iron[/i] spilled into her mouth as she bit the inside of her cheek. And all at once, the crazed energy drained from her like water from a glass. Her body remembered how [i]exhausted[/i] it was, and she sagged like a puppet with its strings cut, falling back into the wall. The only thing that kept her upright was her arm, still caught in Besca's shirt.

But even then—even with all the fire out of her head and all the cuts on her arm and forehead starting to hurt—her eye still stared sightless, and the only thing she could do was to keep coughing out “[COLOR=FFE63D]Please, please, the eyes, does it have eyes?[/COLOR]"