[When it's finished, she stumbles backwards, her breath caught in her throat and eyes wide. Octavia turns to look for Ahsoka, to make sure she's still there. Wherever there is. Subconsciously, the hand that was on the painting curls into a tight fist, remaining feelings still lingering.]
What the hell? [The words are quiet, more of a hiss than anything else.]
no subject
What the hell? [The words are quiet, more of a hiss than anything else.]