[There are always children on ships, because the world is unkind and necessity ruthless, but not for the first time, Horse thinks to himself, irrelevantly, why are there children on ships. Because they're gifted and tougher than they look, Horse. Because we need them to work.
A squiddie claw bounces off one of her flailing kicks.
The next takes her shoe.
The metal is cold on her foot. She feels the robotic pincer snag the cuff and pop it off her heel, and the tentacle shoves forward further in an effort to close the growing distance between them. The mechanized joint starts to grind shut on the round bone of her ankle, a desperate scrabble. Horse swerves around the corner, but perhaps not fast enough.]
no subject
A squiddie claw bounces off one of her flailing kicks.
The next takes her shoe.
The metal is cold on her foot. She feels the robotic pincer snag the cuff and pop it off her heel, and the tentacle shoves forward further in an effort to close the growing distance between them. The mechanized joint starts to grind shut on the round bone of her ankle, a desperate scrabble. Horse swerves around the corner, but perhaps not fast enough.]