The Dog Eating Scraps From The Table

Islinda was frozen at the spot, tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked. She had felt it. Every single torment; pain; anguish and depression that Azula had gone through. She experienced it as if it were her own suffering. As if Azula had vanished and she had taken her place during that ordeal as long as it lasted. 

Even now, she could tell the thoughts buzzing around in the demon's head. Islinda groaned, clutching her head. This… It was too much. She didn't ask for this. Why was this happening to her? There were so many humans, Fae's, that Azula could have chosen to share this fate with, why her? 

Suddenly, the squeaking sound of metal being dragged open echoed through the dim confines of the prison, piercing the heavy silence. Azula's eyes snapped open, wide with anticipation, the sudden noise jolting her from the numbness of her existence. Simultaneously, Islinda lifted her head, her expression mirroring Azula's mixture of hope and apprehension.