None of my teammates were moving, either.
If I had the ability to use my power properly, I might have done something with the smoking vials that Bonesaw had left behind. Used loops of silk to drag them away, perhaps. I didn’t.
Where would you drag them?
My power was clumsy, now, a brute force weapon at best.
Taylor is good at the discrete, calculated uses of her power, but now she needs to figure out how to use brute force to its best effect.
And hell, I was just so tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally. So many burdens on my shoulders, so many failures that had cost so much.
And she may need to deal with this first, perhaps have a paralyzed meditation session.
She needs to take a moment to think of just flexibility love and trust.
We had fucked up here, had underestimated Bonesaw. I’d gone with Trickster’s plan to set Hookwolf’s contingent against the Nine and buy us the chance to infiltrate and rescue Brian, even though I’d known the strategy had too many holes, too many unpredictable variables.
Coddammit, Taylor, you’re gonna blame yourself for that too?
I mean, the decision to go attempt to get Bonesaw to fix Grue, that I could understand blaming yourself for, but this is a stretch, Taylor.
I’d been too tired to think of something else, too preoccupied and impatient because Brian was in enemy hands.
It’s a bit of a vicious cycle when she puts it like this, considering that one of the main reasons she’s so tired is that she’s blaming herself for so much.
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