Abby's not fucking around. It's clear in her tone that if Clarisse tries to leave again this is going to be a problem. Abby wants her to just give up, and stop looking, and wait around like Ellie would ever do this on her own, like this is something that can just wait until tomorrow.

"God, this is like a dream come true for you, isn't it?" she says quietly. Ellie missing. Maybe hurt, maybe dead, maybe just—

she stops the thought.

Clarisse has never raised a hand to Abby before. Not in anger. They've sparred plenty, and it's gotten pretty rough, but it's all been in fun. Now she's staring down at Abby's fingers closed tight on her arm and all she wants to do is wrench out of her grip and haul back and hit her as hard as she can.

She does—wrench her arm back, anyway. Abby's grip is not gentle. She uses all of her strength to do it and then stops that way, arm held back like she's about to go at her, breathing heavy through her teeth. For a second the look on her face looks so much like the god they met in the desert, like she's given up everything human in her, and then it drops and she looks like herself again, exhausted and hungry and so fucking scared.

What the fuck is she doing, standing there like she's about to hit Abby? Standing there just like her father always stood over her, with a raised fist. She swallows around what feels like a jagged rock in her throat. She thinks she might cry, or throw up. She doesn't know what to do.

She hugs her arms around herself. "I'll wait," she says, hating herself more with every word. "Until Blunder eats. And rests."