he's going crazy, ellie whispered to @Swordfish, stress beginning to wear at her coral-pink eyes in the form of a new puffiness to them. but i feel like i cannot leave 'im.
@Lestan had found his beloved daughter, and yet he was falling apart at the seams. he spouted drivel that was scarcely ever understood to elodie's foreign mind, and yet it intrigued her. a bonepiece, something about a witch and a boy. it sounded almost like old wives' tales from the northern reaches of her homeland.
the ragtag bunch had gone northward, well into the taiga, and she could not help but think that this was not a path that led to the fabled creek. but there was — somewhere, at least — the promise of a home, a future, written in fine print between the lines of the mess she now held in her sunburnt palms.

no.
he was right, yes, that was something she could do. something she probably should do; get out while she could, and yet;
he needs us, elodie whispers, gathering herself into a sit. her tail folds over her feet, and her eyes follow the natural curve of her own body. somet'ing tells me zat he does, at least. is zat crazy? to t'ink such a t'ing?
i mean, why do you stay? you are so... normal, she barks out a laugh. an' i get ze feeling zat his antics are not what you need in your life.