[Seneca wishes she was asleep. On four legs, she'd be fast. It's not scary to fight when she has tooth and claw. But her, like this, two-legged and all pale shivering skin, what is she? Vulnerable. She hates it, climbs out of the window hating her body for the first time in a long time. She never knew it could fail her like this, from cowardice alone.]
[She waits in the alleyway, afraid to run on her own and happy to hide this in some selfless heroism, trying to make sure her companion is okay.] C'mon, c'mon. We gotta run.
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[She waits in the alleyway, afraid to run on her own and happy to hide this in some selfless heroism, trying to make sure her companion is okay.] C'mon, c'mon. We gotta run.