Starglow Basin desorden

her question was shut down quickly, brusquely. she cast a pitying look upon the boy before rising at soto's request and following him, like a soldier well-worn to orders.

venga conmigo. fiamma had been chewing over his words in her mouth, fascinated by the similarity to her own tongue. it sounded quite similar to "come with me"—and was evidenced by his body language—but was different all the same.

once away from the dugout, she cut her icy eyes upon his scarred face with a newfound intent, looking for answers. sangre was on the mend, but now. . .

perché questo? she asked, her tone caught between curiosity and demand. she meant to ask what had happened, but feared that the more words she added, the less he would understand based on accent. she needed to know;

she needed to know now.