[ The questions catch her attention (still a marvel, Furiosa finds herself thinking), but it's something else that keeps it. She can see it from a few paces back, a tell-tale burn marring otherwise unmarked flesh peeking out from between long tresses of red hair. ]
Your neck.
[ A familiar voice, rusty even from a younger body. Still tall, but less bulk. Way more hair, tangled and covering the matching brand on her own beck. Most unmistakable of all is the combination of twisted metal and cut-short flesh on her left arm. ]
Let me— [ She trips herself up on these words. So used to barking commands, and very socially inept, but if it's true this is not the right woman to make commands of. A woman, a healthy full-life woman. It feels like an engine seizing in the moment before she tries again. ] Will you show me?
b and a little bit of d
Your neck.
[ A familiar voice, rusty even from a younger body. Still tall, but less bulk. Way more hair, tangled and covering the matching brand on her own beck. Most unmistakable of all is the combination of twisted metal and cut-short flesh on her left arm. ]
Let me— [ She trips herself up on these words. So used to barking commands, and very socially inept, but if it's true this is not the right woman to make commands of. A woman, a healthy full-life woman. It feels like an engine seizing in the moment before she tries again. ] Will you show me?