This place had caught Ryan’s attention when she had moved through it a few days prior. She went back to it now because she figured it might be a good place for her to think things over. The biggest thing? ...the stranger she had met while swimming in the bay. She should have known by the way his blood red gaze comforted her. Maybe it was instinct or something kicking in. She couldn’t be sure. But what she did know was that she was utterly confused about what to do next.



She dropped her bag down next to a tree trunk, trailing away a few yards. She wore her plaid tea length dress that was adorned with wrinkles along the hem. She placed a hand out in front of her, steadying herself against the trunk of a tree. She needed her mother. Ryan was usually fairly independent and strong, but right now she felt weak. She needed some sort of moral support.

Her eyes felt particularly heavy, even though it was the middle of the day. She supposed it could have been partially due to the fact that her sleep hadn’t been so fulfilling the night before. Too many things kept turning around in her mind. She wasn’t sure why this whole ordeal with Anselm seemed to trouble her so much, but it did. She couldn’t decide how to go about things now. Should she pursuit being with her father?



Ryan turned her red gaze upon a taller, black female who spoke softly to her. Her eyes seemed to show kindness, perhaps compassion. The hybrid offered a smile in return, letting her hand drop from the tree and turning to fully face the Italian girl. "Hi," Ryan responded, surprised to find herself suddenly feeling slightly better. "I’m doing alright, I suppose. Hanging in there." That was an expression her mother often used, especially when the duo were low on food. 'Hungry, but hanging in there.' "My name’s Ryan," she offered, holding out a hand for the girl to shake. She had seen her mother do this as well, once when she had spoken to this awful looking coyote. It was desperate, but her mother had ways of bringing food home for them.

Similarly, their shaking hands felt awkward to Ryan as well, but she appreciated the notion behind the gesture. After all, it was an appropriate way to greet someone, right? This Italian girl had a very pretty name – Savina. It was rather feminine, unlike her own. She nodded, letting herself sit down upon the damp ground. She crossed her legs beneath her like a pretzel, attempting to flatten out the wrinkles of her dress with one hand.



"Me? Ahhh, well…" She paused, thinking of her mother again. The two had been together from the beginning and often shared simple talks like this during their traveling. When she had been smaller, Ryan’s mother would scoop her into her lap and talk about whatever they pleased. It felt much the same, which is why, it seemed, Ryan felt she could be open with Savina and tell her how she felt. She pretended as if it were Lené in front of her. "I was given a name. The name of the person who is supposed to be my father." Anselm, she said in her head. "I met someone the other day with that name. It’s just…" She paused. It couldn’t be possible, right? "It couldn’t have been him."

In some way, it was refreshing to hear that Savina had at least some idea what Ryan was facing. Though she had never had a friend before, nor knew what it truly meant to have one, Ryan hoped that some sort of bond would form with this Italian girl. She wanted a type of replacement for her mother, and didn’t realize that all she really needed was a loyal friend.



"I wasn’t really looking for him," Ryan told Savina. In fact, she didn’t really think she would ever discover his whereabouts. "My mother and I never lived in one place for long, we always traveled. After she died, I just kept going. It only seemed natural. I didn’t really expect to find him. I just… did." She offered a thin smile, before deciding to ask Savina about her father. "Did you ever find him? You’re dad, I mean."

Her mother’s death had been rather horrible. Of course Ryan missed her completely, but she was slightly relieved when her mother didn’t wake the next morning those few months ago. The leptospirosis had completely savaged her body and Ryan was glad that she no longer had to suffer. "I’m sorry," she offered Savina, because she knew just how hard death was to deal with when it happened to someone close to you. Though it had struck her terribly hard when her mother finally died, she had been expecting it ever since her mother had gotten sick. Because of that, she supposed she had been slightly prepared.



When Savina asked about Anselm, Ryan shrugged her shoulders. She couldn’t say for sure. "I don’t know. It must have been. His gaze" – there was something about it – "it was like I’ve seen it before." And she had. Whenever she saw her own reflection, that same gaze was peering back at her.



The story about Savina’s own father was tragic. She couldn’t imagine living along side someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge your presence. "That must have been terrible," she commented, feeling a bit sorry for Savina and her family. It made her wonder though. If Anselm discovered the truth, would he shun her just the same? After all, he hadn’t been around for Ryan and her mother, had he?

She smiled when Savina commented on her eyes. Lene had always talked about how they were so unique and Anselm had been the only other person that Ryan had met with the same shade of red, so far. She had been proud of the color as a child, for her mother always praised her for them. 'You have beautiful eyes, my child.' But now, her stomach turned sick. Even without seeing the two side by side, Savina had made the connection as well. She knew what Ryan knew deep inside of her – that Anselm really was her father.



"Yes," she responded, voice sinking to a whisper. So it was true. It had been him. Of course she already knew this, but it seemed solidified now. She looked up to Savina’s jade eyes, nodding. "Yes, his name was Anselm. That’s who I met. And I know it’s my father. He has to be. My mother told me my father’s name was Anselm de le Poer. That was him, wasn’t it? He was Anselm de le Poer!"



She almost didn’t hear what Savina said about her own family, since she was fighting too hard to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. She didn’t know why, but suddenly she felt completely overwhelmed. What would she do now? It was clear she had found her father. But how would he respond when he discovered he had a child he never knew about?

She let herself be held, not caring that the two barely knew each other. She closed her eyes, squeezing them closed as if it would somehow erase all of the negative things that had happened. She wanted to pretend that it was her mother holding her, since she missed that warm and comforting touch. But she knew she couldn’t pretend. Instead, it was this stranger, this kind, young girl. Savina had really been a sweetheart. If Ryan decided to stick around in this area, she would definitely want to see the onyx colored girl again. Maybe she would even become her first true friend. That was something that she needed.



"Thank you," she muttered, lifting a hand to wipe the tears that had managed to leak from her closed lids. When she rubbed away the dampness on her cheek, she turned to face Savina. "Thanks a lot. I really just needed someone to listen." She sat there then, just breathing the fresh air for a moment. If he was a good man, then she would go to Inferni. She would do what she had told Corona that she would do. She rose to her feet, almost sad for a moment as their embrace broke free. She wiped the fabric, brushing off the forest debris that had collected on it. She wiped her eyes again, smiling down to Savina. "I need to go. To Inferni. I think I’m going to see him – to join them." She twirled in a circle, looking for her bag. When she found it, she slung the strap over her shoulder. "Where can I find you, Savina? I really hope to see you again," she said with a smile. This was one the first times she planned to leave an area behind with every intention of returning.