ValseVertigo
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They stared, unblinking red eyes searching for any sign of red staining white fur. There was only dust. Kris’s own blood rushed through their ears, barreling through their chest with a violence, like someone was gripping their heart, wringing it out like water from a sponge. It was the kind of pain that made scraped knees sting just a bit more.
Or, Kris realizes at a very young age that not everybody bleeds.