āThis is what you get! This is what you get for hurting me!ā ( hey how we feeling about marta hunting val down after she first leaves w/ the heretics-- this isn't even about Papa anymore š )
Fuck! A punch lands and she's just grateful that Marta's pick axe has long since been wrestled out of her grasp and sent flying across the sand, out of reach. She can't tell if she's bleeding or not until she tastes copper on her tongue. The adrenaline coursing through her disguises the pain; she'll feel it later, if she survives this. The much stronger woman pinning her to the ground doesn't bode well for her. Her grip on her own knife tightens. She doesn't use it. Not yet.
Her words do more to rile Val up than the violence does. Maybe she deserves to get the shit beaten out of her. But, the woman doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about. "You did this... to yourself..!"
Why is she always the one expected to make sacrifices?
Why is she the sinner, the whore, the heretic everytime she puts her own wellbeing first, when she does it so very rarely? She's sick of bending over backwards for a community that never wanted her, sick of Knoth's bullshit, sick of Marta making excuses for him. Why is she the villain for living as Knoth's traitorous daughter instead of dying as his treasured son?
She tries to throw her weight against the woman, tries to throw her off balance so she can roll on top in the struggle, but the dramatically stronger woman doesn't budge. It isn't fair. Marta leaving was always an option. Val staying was not.
"You had a choice..! You chose him!"
She waits until Marta pulls her hand back once more, then takes advantage of the way she only has one palm planted on the ground. Before she can hit her again, she grabs her wrist, bites down hard on her forearm, and tries one more time to shove her onto her back.
