Fox's Glade be cunning, and full of tricks

mona blinked at the words spoken by the male, his soft voice compelling her scarlet auds to swivel forward. "what does that mean, tadec?" the girl asked softly, adding in his name with a shy hesitation. he was still a stranger, after all. or perhaps he was not, with how his lucid eyes had drawn all manner of grievances from mona.
to his query, the mayfair slumped back against the stone and let her head loll to one side against its cold surface. "my family ... my father ..." mona closed her murkwater eyes, a sigh swelling her narrow chest. "the man who raised me is not my father; he is my brother. and my father is dead. and i will never know him." 
as she spoke, the emotion in her voice trailed away into the half-living monotone she had only heard from her own throat once before. however, the child turned back toward the guardian of painful souls, as perhaps indeed tadec was in some half-spun fantasy. "i'm mona, by the way." and for once, the name of mayfair did not matter.