[Thank god for young men who follow orders. Rosalind has that brief thought, wry and quiet, and tugs lightly at his hand. And then--
Nothing at all happens, and yet something sort of does. There's no noise, no flash of light or feeling of pressure-- and yet in the blink of an eye, the exhale of a breath, suddenly they're in the midst of the field once more. It's raining now, a light drizzle that coats her hair and clothes, and Rosalind blinks, then smiles in satisfaction.]
no subject
Nothing at all happens, and yet something sort of does. There's no noise, no flash of light or feeling of pressure-- and yet in the blink of an eye, the exhale of a breath, suddenly they're in the midst of the field once more. It's raining now, a light drizzle that coats her hair and clothes, and Rosalind blinks, then smiles in satisfaction.]
Excellent.
[She drops his hand.]