Kintla Flatlands my heart will be blacker than your eyes.

Cethleann sat quietly while the woman inspected her. At least, she thought that was what was happening. Ceth remained still, instinctively following the precedent of silence that was being set. The expression upon the umber marbled female's bold face was not one that was cause for concern, but the girl was not unaware of the power that resounded behind it and so she remained uneasy. Ceth had been molded into a docile puppet of a wolf--innately subservient to dominance without question and easily controlled. The very fact that this wolf was not glaring at her with disdain was enough to unsettle her.

The lark listened closely to each word that was spoken, searching for a hint of what was wanted from her. When she was referred to as "sister", it was nearly as startling as Aktaie's sudden appearance. Her own siblings never once had referred to her as sister--Not with their father's ears everywhere. And only her mother had ever spoken to her with a semblance of kindness. It was harder to understand than even the woman's strange accent.

"I do not," Ceth admitted softly, "Where I lived is a great distance from here. I do not live anywhere now." The expression she gave the woman was one of apology, partly because she was truly sorry that she was unable to give any information that she could tell was being sought, but also because.. that's just what her face did.

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