Imagine being immortality in an odd sort of way, a way that bordered on that annoying, upsetting kind. Imagine it being immortality in the way that you could die any number of times and you’d feel the pain of the death, but you could come back so long as your effigy was fixed. You could only die for good by losing your will to live and ending it.
That was the life the Felt had to deal with as golems. It was a rough life, one that felt like the death would never cease. But you got used to it. Or, at the very least, you tried to.
And Mesita tried and tried hard. With her power to vanish into space-time portals and just…hide there. She couldn’t move. Just stand, and listen, and wait. See, but not be seen. Hide, until she found what she needed to know. And then she tried to get out safe.
Most of the time, it ended in being beaten to death, a slit throat, or both.
At least Itchy was there when she woke up. He always was.
She let out a light whimper as she slowly opened her eyes, her throat still stinging slightly. She opened her mouth, afraid no sound would come out, save a whimper like the one before, but she closed her mouth before any sound could come out.
And then she slowly opened her eyes. She was home, thank goodness. Safe and sound in the Felt mansion.
And the first person she saw… It was Itchy, of course. She managed a small smile.
“Hola…” she managed in a hoarse voice.
"Hola chica." Itchy sighed. He hated it when this happened. It really got to him, to see his girl like this. Well, she wasn’t his girl really, but all the same it got to him. "Como estas?" He asked. He knew she would only be able to speak spanish until she woke up. So he obliged happily.