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Myrika Tears · 11-03-2011, 11:49 PM

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Myrika had devoured that book more times than she could remember. Its yellowed pages were lovingly worn. She kept her books like some kept gold, but there was no doubt the books Myrika owned were very, very well-read. They had been in good condition, perhaps stored in some airtight container or dry, optimally temperate building until the scavenger-traders had come for them. The hybrid woman could not quite say where the books came from; she had obtained them second-hand, after all.

She toyed with her lower lip a moment, considering his question. There was obvious interest in her Aquila for this story, and Myrika did not wish to spoil it for him -- if he could read, she would gladly lend him the book, provided he kept after it as she did. Awkward as she could be, the russet women would have no qualm with telling even her Aquila just how to handle and treat her most prized possessions. Well, second most -- interesting as they were, Myrika could not quite place paper above a living creature, and so Eira held the esteemed spot of most prized possession of Myrika Tears.

It was a man -- Campion. He brought the sickness to a place called Texas, and it spread from there. I guess some of the people didn't get sick -- they were immune -- and they wrote everything down, she explained, pushing a finger into the spot of blood that had appeared on her leg. She'd picked the tiny scab off, and that tiny little mark now weeped blood. Do you want to read it? she asked, politely avoiding inquiring as to whether he could read with this question. She might even read it to him, if he could not read, but it would take them quite a long time. Her cerulean eyes watched him work on the bird, following the quick and sure movements of his hand.

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