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wc 290
''You're welcome,'' she replied hesitantly, noting the tinge of melancholy in the hybrid's tone of voice - it was paired with a strange, uncharacteristic weariness for a youngster her age. It was hard to pinpoint what caused her to linger; under normal circumstances, Lilin would have carried on without second glancing at the scrawny little thing she'd stumbled upon. Had the girl not been so gaunt-looking and blatantly underfed, their conversation would have ended there. The more she looked, however, the more pity sank in. She was scarcely older than her beau's son, Temeraire. And while the Virding didn't have the best of relationships with the the boy, she wouldn't have wanted such cruel hardships to befall him.
With bent limbs, Lilin lowered herself to the floor until her knees met the earthen ground. It was only when she reached the adolescent's eye level that she finally allowed an inquiry to slip through her already parted lips. Her cerulean pareo blanketed the ground, a hefty contrast with the girl's dirty clothing; no doubt designed for camouflage. ''Do you travel alone?'' Her tone was kept neutral, an insight on her low expectations. It would surprise her none if she acquiesced- the Virding personally knew calamity all too well; it was a cruel world they lived in. Mediterranean blue irises held the lilac of the loner's gaze, a color donned by many Stormbringers. The Godja would have surely thought it was a sign from the Gods themselves, and Lilin herself was beginning to share her beliefs.
''You can dine with my family tonight and get a good night's rest,'' she suggested with a smile, keeping her offer broad and making it so the unkempt hybrid had the final decision.