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It's a Graves thing (soundofwings) wrote in doorslogs,

Iris followed again, steps small and overly careful. She could barely think past the thought of warm blood spilling over her hands, the way the woman had looked as the life faded from her eyes. She shook her head sharply, trying to banish the image, whispering hate her under her breath as they began to climb the stairs. One flight up, she returned her attention to her helper, pausing to stare with wide eyes again. "My hands... I'll get blood on my dress." She held one up, as proof of her words, but when she looked at it, she no longer saw the scarlet smeared up her arm, only the small traces under her nails. Frowning, she shook her head. "Where did it go?" The frown stayed on her face as she continued to study her hand, steps slowly starting up the next flight of stairs.