The void around them was silent. The dark sun still hung in the colorless sky, but it felt dimmer now. Diminished. Like something had been taken from it.
Wobbly appeared on the gold core.
It was now noticeably larger than it had been this morning, almost spherical, its gelatinous body stretched tight, and it sat on the core like a very small, very possessive hen. It tried to eat it. The core was larger than Wobbly's entire body. It's membrane stretched over the gold surface, strained, and then snapped back with a wet plop.
Wobbly wobbled frustratedly. A sound escaped it, a small, indignant burble.
Florence, without looking up: "Don't even think about it."
Wobbly blinked. Retreated. Sat on the core with the specific dignity of something that had been deeply wronged.
Then it noticed the corrupted heart.
