Carrion: *just writes* wel, do yew wunt me tu git out of tis form
(thats my best kindergarten spelling )
(also she is like 17 but she didnt get any schooling)
Obsidian: sure.
Carrion: *and she turns into dis:
Obsidian: *sitting on couch with no expression to her face just looking at her*
Carrion:...*she clears her throat and speaks with the cutest, softest voice youve ever heard* ......you not scared? or sad? me confused......
Obsidian: I don't feel anything. Not anymore.
Carrion:......how dat work?
Obsidian: it's complicated.
Carrion: otay
Obsidian: so. You're made of dead animal/human flesh. Tell me about that.
