You utter soothing noises as you approach the girl. Her flailing hands find yours, still holding the knife. She screams and shoves you, hard, into a puddle. She's gone before you can get up.
You utter soothing noises as you approach the girl. Her hands grope around until they find yours. You make to lift her blindfold […] 'No,' she says. 'Not yet. […] I need to be away from the gaze of the storm. I cannot look at it or it will see me.'
