A continuation of last week’s steampunk-esque Rapunzel! (Though I’m realising now that her world is probably more clockpunk than it is steampunk, really.)
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on that last post of hers, incidentally. You all just made me even more excited to keep working on fleshing out this world. ♥
She was unconcerned by the war being waged outside.
All sounds from the streets below were muffled, inside the innards of her clocktower, and she heard nothing more than a few scrapings of knives brought up on stray snatches of wind. These merely mimicked the sounds of the cogs (even if she could instantly tell the sounds apart) — rusted-over and futile, but still attempting to move all the same.
It was a lullaby, to her ears; a strange sort of comfort. An affirmation of mobility, the thing she valued most of all.
She refused to let the world be still.