a. [Mary doesn't know how to make paper boats. She knows how to draw, of course, and spends a good deal of time personalizing a little picture for every one of her dearly departed friends. She loves them, she misses them, she's sorry that they died again, and that they haven't come back. She should cry, probably, or could cry, maybe, but that's not how she's feeling, exactly. Because it's more angry than sad.
They've left her.
But it isn't their fault, is it? They didn't do it on purpose. Mary sits with a quill-covered spirit roughly her own size, maybe a bit smaller, and watches it gnash at its paper with its pointed teeth. Without blinking, she mimics the action, and shoves one of her drawings into her mouth.]
b. [Either she gets tired of eating paper or has decided that her mashed-up paper creations don't suit her needs the way that she'd like them to, because eventually she leaves the company of her forest spirit friends and comes up to you, holding up one of her drawings of a lost member of their company.]
I need to make it a boat.
[This is her version of asking for help. Mary's just assuming that she's gonna get it. Look at her big sad eyes!]
c. [Standing quietly at the edge of the dark water, illuminated by the multitude of glowing pebbles, Mary says nothing for a long time. It's not until she notices someone's close by, and maybe not leaving, that she suddenly says what's on her mind.]
Mary | OTA
They've left her.
But it isn't their fault, is it? They didn't do it on purpose. Mary sits with a quill-covered spirit roughly her own size, maybe a bit smaller, and watches it gnash at its paper with its pointed teeth. Without blinking, she mimics the action, and shoves one of her drawings into her mouth.]
b. [Either she gets tired of eating paper or has decided that her mashed-up paper creations don't suit her needs the way that she'd like them to, because eventually she leaves the company of her forest spirit friends and comes up to you, holding up one of her drawings of a lost member of their company.]
I need to make it a boat.
[This is her version of asking for help. Mary's just assuming that she's gonna get it. Look at her big sad eyes!]
c. [Standing quietly at the edge of the dark water, illuminated by the multitude of glowing pebbles, Mary says nothing for a long time. It's not until she notices someone's close by, and maybe not leaving, that she suddenly says what's on her mind.]
Where do you think they'll go?