Iman regards the blue-haired woman with slightly incredulous alarm. What kind of questions are these? What is all this even about? Apt questions she knows she's in no position to ask. And then it's Greta who places herself in front, her voice hitting a quality Iman's never heard. Her breath catches as she looks up at the woman, stunned by the vehemence, the bitterness. Greta is - protecting her.
She reaches out slowly to rest a hand on her back. Neither of them is standing alone here. They're together.
"This is a shared dream," she interjects, forcing herself to stay subdued and fact-based. She doesn't want to complicate matters. "We're all dreaming, and all in the same dream. We aren't de-"
A sneeze bursts out of her, muffled quickly on the back of her wrist.
She stares in irritation at the ground, then at this intruding woman. Well, if she's dead, it stands to reason she'd assume the same of everyone else. Like this was some sort of afterlife. "Well, we're-"
no subject
She reaches out slowly to rest a hand on her back. Neither of them is standing alone here. They're together.
"This is a shared dream," she interjects, forcing herself to stay subdued and fact-based. She doesn't want to complicate matters. "We're all dreaming, and all in the same dream. We aren't de-"
A sneeze bursts out of her, muffled quickly on the back of her wrist.
She stares in irritation at the ground, then at this intruding woman. Well, if she's dead, it stands to reason she'd assume the same of everyone else. Like this was some sort of afterlife. "Well, we're-"
She sneezes again.
What?
What?