[Boba remembers the rancor and the Great Pit of Carkoon-- before that, a handful of sea-mice and an eel and a dark shape in the water-- and he thinks that Branch was probably right to be worried about getting eaten.
(Life is hard for the small and weak.)
He carefully watches all of the steps Branch takes to open the door so he can commit them to memory.
When he crawls through and sees what Branch has done, he inhales sharply. His mouth goes slack in shock.
Boba is feeling a lot of things as his eyes dart around. He's not sure what all of them are. His stomach still hurts in that bad-angry way it was before, but now his throat feels like there's something lodged in it and there's this feeling of pressure behind his eyes and ears. He scrunches up his face and quickly wipes at his eyes and nose.
It must be dusty in here or something, that's all. He sniffs loudly and approaches one of the decals on the wall. His hand hovers over it, not quite touching, as his brain starts trying to guess how long it would've taken to put this whole place together. The pressure in his ears starts to turn into an almost-ringing so he makes himself stop thinking about it.
Boba takes a step back, scrubs his eyes, and turns around. He can't bring himself to look at Branch directly so his eyes settle on the floor slightly to the left of the troll.]
I...
[Boba feels like he should say something, anything, but his brain is too full of white noise to think. He feels like hall of the feelings that are happening inside of him are going to make him explode, like a corpse that's been forgotten in a smuggler's cargo hold.
The only clear thought he has is full of guilt. Branch made this place for Lucky, but Lucky doesn't exist.]
cw: cannibalism mention
(Life is hard for the small and weak.)
He carefully watches all of the steps Branch takes to open the door so he can commit them to memory.
When he crawls through and sees what Branch has done, he inhales sharply. His mouth goes slack in shock.
Boba is feeling a lot of things as his eyes dart around. He's not sure what all of them are. His stomach still hurts in that bad-angry way it was before, but now his throat feels like there's something lodged in it and there's this feeling of pressure behind his eyes and ears. He scrunches up his face and quickly wipes at his eyes and nose.
It must be dusty in here or something, that's all. He sniffs loudly and approaches one of the decals on the wall. His hand hovers over it, not quite touching, as his brain starts trying to guess how long it would've taken to put this whole place together. The pressure in his ears starts to turn into an almost-ringing so he makes himself stop thinking about it.
Boba takes a step back, scrubs his eyes, and turns around. He can't bring himself to look at Branch directly so his eyes settle on the floor slightly to the left of the troll.]
I...
[Boba feels like he should say something, anything, but his brain is too full of white noise to think. He feels like hall of the feelings that are happening inside of him are going to make him explode, like a corpse that's been forgotten in a smuggler's cargo hold.
The only clear thought he has is full of guilt. Branch made this place for Lucky, but Lucky doesn't exist.]
My name is Boba.