Zhi snatched up the notebook and grease pencil from the ground, opened it up, and started trying again without another word to Lalataru. Her face was set in concentration, though the line of her eyebrows and the grim way she pulled her mouth to one side proclaimed something else going on in her head. It took her several more tries (her expression gradually smoothing) before a spark left her fingers. It fizzled out shortly after it materialized, leaving Zhi to stagger sideways. "Oh," she said. Her legs braced wide, and she bent to put her hands on her knees. The notebook and grease pencil were clutched awkwardly in between.
Her eyes had gone wide. "Shit, that -- it takes th'stuffin' right out o'ye, it does." She sounded as if she'd been winded, or someone had gotten a good punch in under her ribs.
Her eyes had gone wide. "Shit, that -- it takes th'stuffin' right out o'ye, it does." She sounded as if she'd been winded, or someone had gotten a good punch in under her ribs.
