[Just a few scratches. Maybe that's true--she has no idea how bad they are, she just knows they hurt, and she thought it was just because of the hanging but she didn't realise how much she'd dug her own fingers in.
Her stomach turns. Whether it's at the idea of someone else touching her neck or the thought of how much of her own flesh is underneath her nails is unclear, but there's a horrible, wrenching crunch from the scenery at her wave of revulsion.
She squeezes her eyes shut, and squeezes Ferran's hand at the same time. It takes conscious effort to mind Ferran's attempts to help. They're friends, and she trusts him, and he's here to help. Her hand shakes with the force of her grip, but after a moment she opens her eyes again to meet his gaze. Her voice rasps painfully, but she feels like she has to say something--anything to help keep her focus on Ferran and not whatever the Tree is making from memories she doesn't have yet.] Sorry. Distracted.
cw: uh...mild scratch-related gore...???
Her stomach turns. Whether it's at the idea of someone else touching her neck or the thought of how much of her own flesh is underneath her nails is unclear, but there's a horrible, wrenching crunch from the scenery at her wave of revulsion.
She squeezes her eyes shut, and squeezes Ferran's hand at the same time. It takes conscious effort to mind Ferran's attempts to help. They're friends, and she trusts him, and he's here to help. Her hand shakes with the force of her grip, but after a moment she opens her eyes again to meet his gaze. Her voice rasps painfully, but she feels like she has to say something--anything to help keep her focus on Ferran and not whatever the Tree is making from memories she doesn't have yet.] Sorry. Distracted.