[ Discomfort prickles at her as his tone loses its patience, a swirl of bewilderment beginning to turn inside her. She doesn't know how to answer any of those questions. He alludes to a future she fears, and his voicing it aloud somehow makes it feel more tangible, more looming. Despair hooks into her chest, seeping into her eyes, what should be her brighest feature; but still the thought of escape is impossible, and she feels herself rooted to the ground with such gravity that she seems to be sinking. ]
But... you don't know who I am either. You don't know what my face looked like before. At least they know...
[ For what that's worth. They knew her old self and are elated to see it gone, but at least her old self exists in a corner of their memories. To someone like Eustace, the new Gray he sees is the only part of her he knows, like her old self never existed at all. ]
... What am I supposed to do?
[ She isn't speaking to him, exactly. She doesn't expect that there's an answer. It's a hopeless question, and with it the shadows in the church seem to bleed slowly forward, a black mist crawling in two dimensions. ]
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But... you don't know who I am either. You don't know what my face looked like before. At least they know...
[ For what that's worth. They knew her old self and are elated to see it gone, but at least her old self exists in a corner of their memories. To someone like Eustace, the new Gray he sees is the only part of her he knows, like her old self never existed at all. ]
... What am I supposed to do?
[ She isn't speaking to him, exactly. She doesn't expect that there's an answer. It's a hopeless question, and with it the shadows in the church seem to bleed slowly forward, a black mist crawling in two dimensions. ]