Greatwater Lake the touch is cold

"Yeah," Saarthal said, feeling a familiar sense of discomfort curling around her nape. Swallowing thickly, she approached the lakeside and slowly lapped at the water. Saarth was not normally so...awkward? was that the right word? she wasn't quite sure, but, well, not that it mattered much. Anyway, she usually had the situation under control, weaving a narrative in her head and performing whatever role she'd assigned herself but recently...it had gotten harder, stranger. Everything was difficult and weird and painful. Not that there was any reason why. 

"It's really hard," Saarth exhaled and threw an impish smile in Opalia's direction, licking the remaining water droplets off her lips as she took a step back, "hurts like a fucking bitch, doesn't it? Whether you stop or keep going." It'll catch up she wanted to say. She wanted to say that it would follow you around like a shadow, clinging at your ankles. That it'd strike your heart, wounding around your body and swallowing your words at the most unexpected of times, leaving you crippled and empty and wanting and alone. But recently, Saar felt that the effort to simply move her tongue had reached some monumental level and she simply had no energy to put in said effort. So she kept her words to herself, locking away whispers and a flash of blue eyes.