Blacktail Deer Plateau it is not love that brings her to paris

it's perfectly fine! ♥

the voice that calls out to her as she huddles in her hidey-hole is not one that quellcrist is familiar with. out of instinct to appear threatening ( as if a three month old could actually manage to pull that off, ha ) she bares her teeth and her shoulders tense as she backs to the middle of the log. he doesn't look like her pallid companion ( ex-companion now ) either ...and to be frank, she's quite tired of trusting strangers. youth makes her naive but the feeling of abandonment she feels hardens her, turning porcelain resolve into ivory.

she's alone now, she suspects. she's gotta be brave. she's gotta be fierce. she's gotta be smart.

i'm fine. she lies, trying to hide the tremble of her voice by making the tone she uses curt. snappy. go away. bossy. bossy's good, quellcrist tells herself. maybe if she's bossy she can mask the fear she feels as primal knowledge tells her that without a proper adult to care for her she will not survive long out here on her own. still, whatever trust she used to have has been broken by those she trusted to care for her and she wasn't about to fall for that old 'you're safe. i won't hurt you/leave you' spiel again.