Lost Creek Hollow until my body 'gan to say oh-oh oh-oh oh-oh

so rife were her thoughts of the man that mona did not immediately hear the approach of small, indignant paws. however, her senses engaged — the mayfair drew up as she was accosted by a dour-faced child who seemed less than happy with her presence. cloaked in bister and accented in paler colouration, the girl glared at mona in a way she was not accustomed when it came to children.
"i'm mona. what's your name?" the firebrand inquired gently. the child was a pretty thing, fierce; she wanted to know why such annoyance thrummed in the small body.