He screams in agony, all drama and flailing and stomach cramps. Sada is almost too preoccupied with himself to notice the girl, even as she slithers down the dune and hisses her honeyed little words. He pauses, mid-writhe, and says, ”Help? It is then that he sits straight up in the water, seemingly healed - miraculously - though within his stomach still pains him. ”I’m just fine, thank you. Do you need help? I think you have too many eyes. I could use one, you know. A third to go right on my arse. That’d be a good a spot as any, for an eye. What do you thi-“ He’s cut off as a wicked cramp sends him doubled over. Too much, too much, too much water you sucked up, idiot, and now here’s your punishment. Big bad cramps and the world’s smallest triclops, special-ordered for your own special mind-prison, just like you deserve.
”This is what I get,” the words struggle out between tight spaces, ”this is what I get for the truth.”
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