Sawtooth Spire Will I ever be more than I've always been?

just an interim, bc she's fully unconscious! is there a doktor in the house

if only the sheer force of a mother's desperate plea was enough; the ferocity distilled in Wylla's thimble frame alone, the instant she spun on Mahler, would have surely wrenched the girl forth from her drowning sickness.
in reality, she was cast about in the stir, and then once again her body was ragdoll without any port for her mother's storm -- no sign of life, except a pulse as faint as a spirit's sigh, only noticable to a practiced touch and dead to any other.
she would not feel herself gathered into the cradling tilde of a trembling arm. she did not feel anything, and the anchor continued its rote trawl deeper, and deeper, and deeper still.