these people keep to themselves,
Why the hell did she even care so much? She couldn't even answer that and deep within, she knew it was because she had been raised to do so - because it had, at some point, become second nature for her to care. Thankfully, she had buried all of that beneath her own self pity... if she couldn't deal with her own loss, why did she even think she could deal with anybody else's? Beneath the try, she couldn't help but think back to Vulcan, to Iskra and even to Alyeska. They had not been her siblings, not through blood at least - the product of rape - and yet her mother had been strong enough to care not only for the wolf who birthed them but to care for the three children as if they were her own. Risk, too, and even Juno and her children had been taken into d'Mani's mother and father's hearts like they were blood, as if they were family. Why couldn't she have been like that? Did she even want to be?
Truthfully, she'd been too far lost within her own mumbling and quiet complaining to have noticed the male at first - perhaps she would have gone on ignorant had her mind not been stuck on the topic of family, of how strange it all was. By chance, she had cast an eye to the fields once more and by chance, she had noticed the faint glisten of an eye so familiar. She had to do a double take before she finally settled on staring back, her ears erect and head tilting curiously from side to side. A small part of her had choked up on the thought that it may have been Faol'an, her father whom she missed more than she would have admitted, but a new part choked up now. Who was he and why did he fool her into believing such a lie? That curiosity fast turned into resentment, her eyes narrowed as he began to approach - each step was like a stab to the heart, bringing a ghost closer and closer to her. Faol'an was dead. Why did this male remind her so much of him, though? If something could go wrong, even her wallowing in her own pity, it would.
"Hi? That's it? You know, for a ghost, you're awfully rude."
She snorted, her ears pushed back as she held eye contact with the stranger, attempting to work out just who or what he truly was. As often cold as she found herself to be, at least she had never been shy and that expectation fell to others, too - speak or be spoken to (in a manner you would not appreciate.) Even with him so close, she refused to budge, staring him down with an expectant expression - brows raised, head cocked forward and lips tight.
all living in their own hell |
