[ She holds on to Knives' hand just as desperately as she did Vash's - maybe even stronger now that she wasn't in such horrible pain. Still, she's very confused about it all, not really understanding much but trusting her brothers enough to go with what they were saying.
After all, what could be worse than the hell she was already in? Not even a year old and she suffered like an animal at the hands of people who had been given a gift, not a test subject. So when Knives words turn slightly sharp about her tormentors, the little waif of a girl does not hold back her anger at all; she doesn't even know how.
The rage of a small child is somehow still all-compassing and sets the sisters off as well, hissing sounds and shrieks mixed into it all. She's so, so angry and she grasps that hand even tighter. Earlier while being a shrieking feather terror in the sand she had wanted to destroy everything around her, no matter what it was - and while an innocent being, she's more than earned the right to hate.
Just like a little Knives, it's all fear underneath it all.
Even emotional tantrums are draining, though, and Tessla's eyes grow a little hazy again. ]
...we'll wait for red brother. He is made of helping and a lot of sad.
[ She finally says, a few wings curling around her like a blanket.
Half an hour out in the sand is the other half of a little girl, some of the wam buzzards circling over it and smaller wams picking at the gore. It's a large chunk of the puzzle that is the horror of Tessla, but it can save a lot of time to rebuild with familiar pieces.
After all, she wasn't almost vaporized by an angel arm. ]
no subject
After all, what could be worse than the hell she was already in? Not even a year old and she suffered like an animal at the hands of people who had been given a gift, not a test subject. So when Knives words turn slightly sharp about her tormentors, the little waif of a girl does not hold back her anger at all; she doesn't even know how.
The rage of a small child is somehow still all-compassing and sets the sisters off as well, hissing sounds and shrieks mixed into it all. She's so, so angry and she grasps that hand even tighter. Earlier while being a shrieking feather terror in the sand she had wanted to destroy everything around her, no matter what it was - and while an innocent being, she's more than earned the right to hate.
Just like a little Knives, it's all fear underneath it all.
Even emotional tantrums are draining, though, and Tessla's eyes grow a little hazy again. ]
...we'll wait for red brother. He is made of helping and a lot of sad.
[ She finally says, a few wings curling around her like a blanket.
Half an hour out in the sand is the other half of a little girl, some of the wam buzzards circling over it and smaller wams picking at the gore. It's a large chunk of the puzzle that is the horror of Tessla, but it can save a lot of time to rebuild with familiar pieces.
After all, she wasn't almost vaporized by an angel arm. ]