No Longer Alone

Lily A softer, lighter voice - perhaps that of a child - interrupts her self-directed, pep-talk of a monologue. Lily freezes, except for her head, which whips around in a swish of flaiming hair, to try and find the source of said voice. Her first thought is that a child shouldn’t be out in the woods alone, completely forgetting that Fae exist. Her second thought is how would a child be able to help her? Shouldn’t she be the one helping them?   What she sees isn’t too convincing. A cloaked figure, hunched over a walking cane. Small in stature, which reminds her of Jiao, though any immediately distinguishing features are hidden. A whirlwind of her home world’s images come to mind, too; of beggar children in the streets, relying on the charity of others to keep them alive. She gave when she was flush and hoped they managed to keep it all. But to be crippled… ah, it was one of her worst nightmares. Her imagination takes it to the extremes and theatrics make her think her life would be over. While the entertainer is doubtful, she is also openly curious. Lily’s eyes light up with a gentle wonder. “Ah, yes…” she says as she crouches down to make herself more level with the smaller Hazel. “if you… can?” comes more tentatively, knowing that it is probably rude and assuming, but the Outlander then quickly follows it with a visible wince, hating the words as soon as they tumble out of her mouth. “Sorry. Yes. Please,” rush out after them, trying to repair whatever damage she may have caused. . women are like tricks by sleight of hand which, to admire, we should not understand