[ she recognizes her. whatever it is harrow's done to herself, whatever it is that's making her ears ring and blood trail lightly down her beskulled face, if nothing else, she recognizes her right now. relief spreads through her chest like a wound, staining everything in its path a deep, painful, intensely metaphorical red, and gideon manages to pull herself together long enough to say: ]

That’s not what your mother said last night. [ you can take the nav out of the cavalier, but you can't take the cavalier out of the necromancer. something like that? maybe less sexy. she'll have to workshop it. either way, she's not in immediate danger of dying anymore, and that's such an improvement that she even answers harrow's actual question: ] Like hell I will, Nonagesimus. "None flesh with left end" doesn't really roll off the tongue.

[ it's a flippant answer, but an answer anyway. and even more than that, it's a genuine answer. not that harrow might recognize it for what it is. what will harrow recognize...?

just what the fuck is going on here? ]