[ The hunger had indeed gotten to Dru, and the more it goes on the more out of touch she becomes, wandering and muttering, seeing things in the shadows, mind plagued by the hunger of Darla's army and the fear of their leader, the shivering terror of some with less spine than others, and the constant hum of death come walking.
The vampires were one thing - the dead brought back in all forms but soul and ticking heart - but the zombies... There's nothing there. A sea, ocean, or nothing. Just the raging need, the craving, like a compulsive itch or a maddening anxiety. It increased her own tenfold as Dru's complete lack of mental shields left her wide open to falling into the demented hivemind, vulnerable to be swallowed up. Likely if Darla hadn't been there, Dru wouldn't have survived this long.
She's not quite to the point of useless, however. Only distracted - her fits and mood swinging tendencies a few shades worse than normal. While Darla's speaking, Dru's muttering - incoherent words, bits of phrases and chunks of century old nursery rhymes. She doesn't come out of her daze until the hand at her elbow shifts her from it.
Eyes wide, glassy and owlish, she blinks, more listening to whispers of insanity granting her empathy to sense what Darla's trying to tell her than trying to recall what was said. A silent nod and she hobbles with her, letting herself be led towards the house.
But halts dead in the road after a couple steps. Eyes wide and pupils unfocused, she turns her head slowly, looking behind her, and a single, delicately manicured finger raises to point to shadows on the dimming horizon.
A small group of them. Not a horde. But enough that cannot be fought by the two alone. ]
Because I could not stop for Death, Death kindly stopped for me.
[ The words roll off her lips in a hollow, empty mutter, but loud enough Darla can hear. ]
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The vampires were one thing - the dead brought back in all forms but soul and ticking heart - but the zombies... There's nothing there. A sea, ocean, or nothing. Just the raging need, the craving, like a compulsive itch or a maddening anxiety. It increased her own tenfold as Dru's complete lack of mental shields left her wide open to falling into the demented hivemind, vulnerable to be swallowed up. Likely if Darla hadn't been there, Dru wouldn't have survived this long.
She's not quite to the point of useless, however. Only distracted - her fits and mood swinging tendencies a few shades worse than normal. While Darla's speaking, Dru's muttering - incoherent words, bits of phrases and chunks of century old nursery rhymes. She doesn't come out of her daze until the hand at her elbow shifts her from it.
Eyes wide, glassy and owlish, she blinks, more listening to whispers of insanity granting her empathy to sense what Darla's trying to tell her than trying to recall what was said. A silent nod and she hobbles with her, letting herself be led towards the house.
But halts dead in the road after a couple steps. Eyes wide and pupils unfocused, she turns her head slowly, looking behind her, and a single, delicately manicured finger raises to point to shadows on the dimming horizon.
A small group of them. Not a horde. But enough that cannot be fought by the two alone. ]
Because I could not stop for Death, Death kindly stopped for me.
[ The words roll off her lips in a hollow, empty mutter, but loud enough Darla can hear. ]