Greatwater Lake the undertaker's thirst for revenge is unquenchable

West enjoys the silence for a few minutes. The seeds have not taken hold but just knowing they are there, that they will soon work, is enough to settle her nerves for a few minutes. It’s coming. It’s been too long. It repeats over and over again like a mantra that is disturbed when the girl introduces herself. The name washes over her as she feels the slight haze in the back of her mind. Slowly, her eyes open, and she sees the girl still standing there, speaking of her wounds.

“I will be,” she says, steadying her voice so she does not slur her words. It has been weeks since she’d felt like this and can feel her body relax, warmth at the edges of her mind. “They don’t hurt that much anymore,” she adds. She doesn’t try to get the girl to help any more than she has, already having struggled with the information before. Now, lost somewhere in her mind, she just needs to focus on getting home. Her eyes droop down to the remaining plants at her feet, staring at them for a moment too long. “I’m West,” she finally introduces, lowering her head and picking up one of the remaining poppies and tossing it in her general direction and keeping the other for herself. “Keep that just in case.”

Oh, how loathe she is to part with the gem.