She's dying. It's hazy thought in the back of her mind realizing that, some detached part of her that's sensible enough to realize it, even if she can't do much more than that. The rest of her is just looking for a quiet place to curl up in and hope that everything stops. The noise, the wretched hum from the blood-red river, the pain from her final, desperate fight with a friend.
That had been a friend, hadn't it? Does it even matter anymore? Billie doesn't know and she reckons she doesn't much care as she reaches the end. Bleeding out in a filthy dead-end alley in some shithole neighborhood. If that same fear and paranoia wrapping so tightly around her weren't so keen to keep her in her shiftling form β smaller, faster, safer β she may have had the sense to laugh over that and tell herself it's exactly where she deserves to die...
At the wall of the alley, where it runs itself to an end against another building, is where she gives up, collapsing there in exhaustion, curling up. Not quite dead yet but with how heavily her sides rise and fall, wheezing piteously, it's only a matter of time.
closed to daud [cw: yep, more death and violence]
That had been a friend, hadn't it? Does it even matter anymore? Billie doesn't know and she reckons she doesn't much care as she reaches the end. Bleeding out in a filthy dead-end alley in some shithole neighborhood. If that same fear and paranoia wrapping so tightly around her weren't so keen to keep her in her shiftling form β smaller, faster, safer β she may have had the sense to laugh over that and tell herself it's exactly where she deserves to die...
At the wall of the alley, where it runs itself to an end against another building, is where she gives up, collapsing there in exhaustion, curling up. Not quite dead yet but with how heavily her sides rise and fall, wheezing piteously, it's only a matter of time.