the barriers in your mind [open]

Asavvi Kouris I'll use you as a warning sign Their growing distance from the barrier was apparently the right cure for the disorienting headache. Lesson learned, she supposed, and determined that walking headlong back into the magical bubble was not going to be an effective method of escape. There was still the weight of fatigue settled into her bones but it didn’t seem like anything a good rest wouldn’t cure. No, Asavvi’s problems where now centered on finding a way to get back to her family, though according to Edrei there was apparently a possibility that they might be here as well. Hope seemed to leap from her belly into her throat at that prospect; though this unknown land was strange and potentially dangerous, that didn’t seem so daunting as a separation, a further severing of her family. Asavvi couldn’t quite suppress the shudder that the flair of emotions caused, repeating the soft bush of shoulders that her close proximity to Edrei seemed to be making all too common. It wasn’t lost on her how nice, how comforting, an embrace would be. Comfort she dearly wanted, but it wasn’t her brother who walked beside her, it wasn’t her mother or father. Asavvi, kept up a series of careful glances, catching the returned smile, the wink, and trying to surreptitiously search the other teenager’s face. Edrei’s apparent ease in collecting a new companion wasn’t something that Asavvi usually shared but after the day’s not insignificant upheaval there was definitely comfort to be found in not being completely alone. “Well, yes. I made and dyed fabric if that’s what you mean. A bit of sewing or mending here and there too.” It seemed an easy enough topic to start off with, the safety of smalltalk even if it was hemmed in with ‘my life is now in shambles and may never be put right’ subtext. “Mostly I look after my brother and sister, or um, I did? They’re just past ten, and it’s about all I can do to keep them out of trouble…” her throat tightened a bit at that. She’d tried to say it lightly but it was a very real fear that two yound children who had already lost their parents might now have lost another primary caregiver. Who knows what mayhem that intrepid little pair would find here; if they’d come, that is. She pushed past the lump in her throat and continued, trying for calm. “What about you, have you been here long? You said big enough for a civilization, is there a town nearby?”