Team: Emelan
Prompt: the incessant dissolving of silk
Word Count: 140

Disclaimer: The world and characters of Emelan belong to TP, not to me. Written for the Goldenlake Olympics, Team Emelan.

The silk is dry on her tongue when she licks the seam.

The threads like to run away from her, just like you do. They like to unravel as quickly as she can stitch them. Silk is unpredictable and stubborn and silk is silk, and you are you.

Sandry is a stitch witch, and a powerful one at that, and she doesn't hold with nonsense from her fabric (but she holds with it from you).

She doesn't like to sew at night, even with her night-light. It's too dark and Sandry hates making mistakes, so she puts away her silk (and you).

She lies awake and thumpthumpthumps her arm against the bedframe like it is a loom, like she is at home in Discipline, where she belongs, where you belong.

She misses you, Briar, but she won't ever say that.