(It's hard to say because everything passed over her like sheet lightning: frightening but harmless. He sunk his hand into her guts and didn't kill her but the blood is on his hand, on her stomach where the cut spilled her into the open air. Something happened and didn't happen at the same time and Ptolemais thinks if she wanted to she could go back to her room right now, sink onto her bed, go to sleep and convince herself, later, that all of this was just a fucked up dream.
She touches the spot where he split her apart very gingerly but the skin there is healthy and strong.)
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(It's hard to say because everything passed over her like sheet lightning: frightening but harmless. He sunk his hand into her guts and didn't kill her but the blood is on his hand, on her stomach where the cut spilled her into the open air. Something happened and didn't happen at the same time and Ptolemais thinks if she wanted to she could go back to her room right now, sink onto her bed, go to sleep and convince herself, later, that all of this was just a fucked up dream.
She touches the spot where he split her apart very gingerly but the skin there is healthy and strong.)