By now, she's decided to just stab out at any eels that approach--her particular sight is part of her physiological make-up, so she hasn't lost it in the dead zone they appear to be caught in. She grasps Balthier's hand when she sees him approach, and kicks up toward the surface--since he's come to, she suspects he'll come along readily, but she's been underwater for less time and has all her strength about her.
Just before they break surface, an eel sinks its many-layered teeth into her arm, maybe in a cunning attempt to make her lose her sword in the shock of the attack. She makes a noise that's more like a feminine snarl than a scream, and instead of jerking away, presses her arm further into its mouth, forcing it to taste her blood. After a split second, the eel flings itself away, and begins thrashing about wildly in the water, repeatedly slamming itself into the underside of the boat.
Another part of her physiological make-up: poisonous blood.
When they make the surface, she's bleeding, but grimly satisfied, and still has her sword. Air, even the strange foggy air that surrounds them, is a welcome relief.
no subject
Just before they break surface, an eel sinks its many-layered teeth into her arm, maybe in a cunning attempt to make her lose her sword in the shock of the attack. She makes a noise that's more like a feminine snarl than a scream, and instead of jerking away, presses her arm further into its mouth, forcing it to taste her blood. After a split second, the eel flings itself away, and begins thrashing about wildly in the water, repeatedly slamming itself into the underside of the boat.
Another part of her physiological make-up: poisonous blood.
When they make the surface, she's bleeding, but grimly satisfied, and still has her sword. Air, even the strange foggy air that surrounds them, is a welcome relief.