[The quiet between them on the bus lets her drift into the memory again, that hazy, drowsy recollection of sounds and colors that should couldn't make out at all, and dragged on, and on, and on... and sometimes, Freya thought she felt something in her hand.]
[She perked up a little when Lucy started dragging her around again, though not much more than she had been at the bus stop.]
[Something changed when Lucy spoke, Freya's head snapping up, alert for a solid second before she flinched, curling over a little and pressing a hand to her forehead. Another one: a... city, she thought, packed with short buildings and just as short trees and vibrant people, a-slightly-too-hot sun overhead. Home, her mind filled in automatically.]
[But it was too much. Her senses flooded with information from three different sources, all seemingly real, and her head ached in protest.]
no subject
[She perked up a little when Lucy started dragging her around again, though not much more than she had been at the bus stop.]
[Something changed when Lucy spoke, Freya's head snapping up, alert for a solid second before she flinched, curling over a little and pressing a hand to her forehead. Another one: a... city, she thought, packed with short buildings and just as short trees and vibrant people, a-slightly-too-hot sun overhead. Home, her mind filled in automatically.]
[But it was too much. Her senses flooded with information from three different sources, all seemingly real, and her head ached in protest.]