I just picked her up the other day. She looked awful. She was dirty, her clothes torn and stained, her hair a complete mess. She was hurt, pretty badly from the looks of it, but getting her to let me touch even just to Path her back was nigh impossible.
When I first got her into the house, Strider slammed her into a wall and held a blade to her neck for several seconds before I got him to let her go. I set her up in our spare room and directed her to where she could take a shower and loaned her some of my clothes. She seemed grateful enough, though she still refuses to let me look at her wounds.
She's going to have to stop being scared of me if I'm going to teach her anything. Erin seems to be enjoying her company, at least. The box, which was not with the kid, has mysteriously popped up in her room. I'll enjoy rifling through it later.
No comments:
Post a Comment