Hushed Willows the morning will come soon.

To say she was pleased with the girl's reaction was a considerable understatement; she was a little bit confused about the scrunching of Eleuthera's face and her clear disgust, but if it kept her from taking Ibis' new friend away then that was fine with her. She had never experienced anything as vile as loss before, not real loss, final loss. Not death. Her father being gone and her home having changed places were losses too but that was different. Ibis knew her father was still out there - watching the same stars as her and Okeanos, staring at the same moon - and she knew that, if she wanted to, she could find her way back to the mountain where she was born (or so she might tell herself; she needed to grow a bit before doing such things). But she had never seen death. Even the meals that she shared with her siblings were bloodless things, piles of warm meat regurgitated and half digested, presented as neat little piles. It never occurred to her that the little skull could've been alive at one point. It did not disgust her the way it clearly unnerved Eleuthera. Ibis decided that made her stronger than her beautiful step-sister, and that was quite an ego boost.

Lets go take a bath, demanded the lilac girl, her voice a little bit distant since her retreat.

Ibis was too busy smiling down at her prize. She hadn't noticed Eleuthera's movement until her voice called out like that, and the girl's ears twisted. She shot an indignant look at the other girl and huffed, Nuh-uh. You can't tell me what to do. She would much rather sit and commune with the discarded boy - Ibis had so much more in common with it than with her, anyways.