Sure, she'll probably excuse herself in my next post. ^^ Just skip the first two paragraphs, Idk. xD; 447 words.
They were so close in age, but Foxglove saw worlds between them. The two scouts knew such different aspects of the world, and despite their proximity in age and even appearance in the slightest way, they could not have been more different, she mused. If she had stayed with her mother and had not been subjected to the hardships of war, if she had not run with the gypsies for half of her life before coming here, then perhaps she would be more like Ayasha. She did not know the difficulties the white girl might have faced, but she knew enough of her own to know that the pair of scouts were drastically different and had known different lives.
Did she regret leaving with her mother and Poppy instead of staying with her father and Magnolia? No, though she would not deny that such a thing might have led to her having a much more normal life. Just as she did not regret that, she did not regret leaving her mother and sister with the Hungarian pack to run with the gypsies. She even did not regret leaving the gypsies to return to the area and she did not begrudge her decision to join the tribe, even after they had imprisoned her and harmed her because of the blood that ran in her veins. The choices she had made in life had shaped her and determined who she was, and she knew that she was glad to be who she was, even if she was facing so many hardships.
Again came the offer of help or assistance if she should ever need it, but Foxglove replied again with a small shake of her head. There was nothing that the white scout could do to help her, and even if there was, the gypsy girl did not know that she would even want her help. She did not think she wanted anyone's help at all. At least, she did not want the help of the members of this tribe, for she did not feel as if they wanted her there. Foxglove did not feel as if she was a true member of the tribe, and so she did not want anything they had to offer her.
Dead.
The word rang in her ears and she did not hear the rest of Ayasha's sentence. Liliana could not be dead; she simply couldn't be. The girl slid to her knees, her palms pressed against the soil. She felt as if she was going to be ill. "Ó, milyen lehetett ez megesik! Olyan rossz, igen rossz! Én nem hiszek! Miért!" she moaned, forgetting for a moment that Ayasha was even there.
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