𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 [Mabifica]

.Lost.

NARRATOR'S P.O.V👓
Two days has gone by since the Gideon incident, the brushwood towered the grass below. Though, it's height was still considerably tall to the creatures and people, a section laid disturbed by a teenage body.

Mabel's body laid in a curled fetal position, her brown curls, tattered with the brush and debris, wrapped tightly around her back. And curved around like a mold and her breath was soft.

The potion, riddled with a non lethal poison, meant to knock the teen cold, dripped it's vile droplets out of her still lips, slowly, her eyes began to flicker and open.

MABEL'S P.O.V🌠
I open my eyes for just a minute, only to close them again, I haven't opened my eyes for a while, possibly hours. This time opening them carefully and keeping them half lidded, but squinted nonetheless.

Instead of my soft mattress with it's matching blanket, hinted with the scent of detergent. I'm greeted with dirt and grass, it's thin strokes tickled at my nose. I can see a few insects crawling here and there, but none offer nor resemble a comfortable bedroom.

After locating my atmosphere, I begin to raise myself from the ground, a sharp sting courses through me. Resulting in my short return to the dirty floor, the bombardment of pain and agony directs my eyes to my arm.

I've seen nasty things before from my trips with Dipper and the group in adventures. But this one was nowhere near the stuff I saw on my own.

A grotesque mark on my arm bled steadily below the source of the revealing wound. Upon further inspection, I find it to be a bite mark, each hole where a jagged fang once filled the space.

Now oozed velvet and it's pulsating and throbbing feeling was acknowledged the more I looked at it. Despite my weakness begging me to stop what I'm doing and stay on the ground.

I rise up one more time, using my good arm to hoist myself above the earthiness below. Sitting at a crouched position as I scan the forest for something recognizable to lead me home.

Something pink caught the corner of my eye, my hoodie's arm sleeve. A tang of sadness came over me but I had no time to tear up now. My bones crack as I stand off of my haunches and numbness seizes my legs, for some reason the numb feeling felt new to me.

And it felt like I didn't know how to handle the dead like feeling, before crashing back to the shrubs.

"Crap." I muttered to myself, slurring off and ending with a low disappointed snarl. The sudden light of anger causes me to jolt up again, in defiance of my body's pain, and begin to limp through the lonely forest.
**********

Walking aimlessly through trees had me bored, all the same trees but in different shapes. My free hand gripping onto my injured arm, which was soaking my ripped sleeve with blood.

Getting scraped and causing bleeding wasn't new to me, accommodated by my multiple colored band aids. So I've seen blood before, certainly not in a big gash like this, but the smell was concerning me.

Usually I steered clear of blood, as it only smells like well blood, but right now, the blood smells different. I constantly peel off the sleeve wrapped around the bruise and look at it.

My stomach would groan and rumble, my mind full and stomach empty. I was starting to notice my own behavior, licking my lips as I caress the bits of dry blood splotches.