There's a stretch of silence that lasts just long enough for it to seem like she really won't be getting a reply. Nothing about the doll moves or reacts, and it merely sits there regarding her with its lifeless, x-ed out eyes.
"The Architect has built many walls upon the bones of we who came before. Prisons weaved of death, unmade by the breath of life. By the song of memory."
no subject
"The Architect has built many walls upon the bones of we who came before. Prisons weaved of death, unmade by the breath of life. By the song of memory."