Heron Lake Plateau always time for second guesses

WC: 553

Phox started speaking and the sound of his voice, even at its youthful stage, visibly calmed the woman; she stopped pressing herself so close to him as he explained things, and she pivoted her ears so that she could hear him clearly (even though they were side-by-side, she wanted to show how attentive she was to him, how interested,) and gradually Camilla came to understand something. The manner in which he spoke was less like a master, and more like — well, she had no words for the opposite of that. He spoke of her needing help and a place to hide with an inflection that lacked the confidence and power she expected, almost like he was asking permission -- but that didn't mesh with what she knew of people. Her skewed sense of reality was making itself more prominent within her own mind, and it only got worse when the conversation switched back to the golden woman before them — she asked questions without issue, without asking for permission from Phox, and the more she spoke the more confused Camilla felt. Her ears pivoted forwards as soon as she started in on her inquisition of Camilla's situation and as she listened her ears flipped back, slicking against her head.

She glanced from Phox to Niamh and back again, a few times actually, as if she was witnessing someone sprouting a second head. Her eyes were a little wider, her mouth slipping open in shock, everything was exposed — and then she let out a little whine. But her head ducked again, as if knowing her whine wasn't appropriate or something of that nature. Maybe she expected her nervous response to earn a negative reaction (like a snap, or some sharp words, but some kind of reprimand).

Camilla decided to take the initiative, even if it felt wrong. It felt so, so wrong to insert herself in to this conversation; up until now she was present, she was the subject for heck's sake — but it wasn't her place, and as she began to answer the questions she was stuttering and watching Phox, not the woman who asked, like he was an interpreter and she was speaking some alien language only he would know. That was, more or less, pretty accurate. He was the one with all the power according to her, and so he was the one Camilla answered to.

M-m-my, uhm... A m-man, her voice was so quiet and so filled with stress that it was difficult for her to answer anything, and on top of that she was freezing, hungry — her teeth began to chatter when she paused, trying to make sense of her thoughts and the questions. I hide, he — he was chasing b-but I got away, and I hide, and -- and Phox find, save me. It didn't clear anything up but she was trying. Her tongue flicked across her lips, spreading a comforting warmth across her chapped lips; I can w-work. I can hunt, I can m-mend, I know p-plants, herbs, m-medicine, um... Stars too, I know stars, I can learn and I can -- I can do anything. Anything Phox want.

The more she spoke the quieter she got, until the last bit - that was almost inaudible, except to the boy beside her.