Ankyra Sound pond rings

something bloomed in her chest, like dried seaweed melting between lips — something that would not leave the back of her mouth, between her teeth.
she'd left something behind. and it wasn't that she wanted it back, moreso feeling that she hadn't turned the stove after leaving her house.
was her crew still out there? not looking for her, surely?
ah, bombaclatt!
jhonny. she who beheaded him, put silver to his dome, hacked his neck, and bore his head to her fearful countrymen. definitely his fucking fault! a neutral static assaulted her limbs. she needed a swim to think.
on her way to the sound to investigate a bit further, she whistles a tune to herself.