[right][h2][color=808080]Sirpa's Catharsis[/color][/h2][@Tlazolteotl][/right]

[color=8882be]Sirpa shuttered as the creature stared deeply into her own eyes. She blinked and looked away. She thought that maybe this thing would appear charming, silly, or even adorable under other circumstances. For now, it was unsettling. [i]How did she get lost?[/i]

[b]"Um, I-"[/b] Sirpa was about to say she didn't know. She didn't know how she got here, whatever here meant. Sirpa could appreciate a vaguely poetic response to a somewhat existential question, but it didn't quite clarify [i]where[/i] she really was. As in, what did it mean to be "scattered everywhere?" Was she dead?

Sirpa didn't get to finish her sentence as she was abruptly interrupted by the sight of a weapon. The blade appeared at the neck of the creature. From where Sirpa was sitting, she couldn't see who wielded it. That didn't matter. A weapon meant danger. Should she be afraid of the wielder, though, or the creature? Sirpa returned her gaze to that of the creature's. She held it steadily, as uncomfortable as it was, as if to ask what was happening. The armchair beneath her softly vibrated, her anxiety seeping into its structure.[/color]