Firefly Glen born of cages

The girl had hoped that they could simply move on from her panic but the boy would not let her; instead he probed into her reasoning, which something truly obscure even to herself.  Her gaze of faceted topaz dulled and fell to the space in front on her paws. ”S-sorry,” came her apology, small and without fire. ”I'm sorry,” Kitsch faltered again, not entirely sure why she was saying it a second time. Her vocabulary was barren of all except for one word. ”m'sorry…” Her heart clenched and her jaw clipped shut — perhaps, in a past life, she might had shed tears [it was a tried and true tactic in getting what she wanted] but not here. not now. and definitely not after she stammered the same word three times. ”It’s just…” 

It’s just that you look exactly like him.

The thought echoed through her mind but was not uttered by her lips; and her sentence, her reasoning, went unfinished. Kitsch grimaced at his cool regard and tried to offer the stranger a sheepish smile, but her entire demeanor continued to speak please don’t hurt me. Finally, Kitsch found her tongue and tried to shift the zeitgeist of this entire encounter. ”Y-you always sneak up on people like t-that?” the pearl spoke with an attempt at lightheartedness, despite that fact that it was she who snuck up on him.