[It's the shock of it that has Tifa crying out. One moment, her feet are at the mercy of the wobbly ropes, and the next, she's falling forward onto her hands and knees as Hilda rushes to her. With a quiet groan, she wipes her hands off on her dress, blood staining the fabric. She must have scraped them on the stone floor of the bridge, but besides the pained hiss, she tries to brush it aside, but she can feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes.
With a more determined frown now, she looks up at Hilda and light begins to filter through the thick fog. The sun... are the clouds slowly clearing?]
My mom. She should be on the other side of the mountain.
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With a more determined frown now, she looks up at Hilda and light begins to filter through the thick fog. The sun... are the clouds slowly clearing?]
My mom. She should be on the other side of the mountain.