03-27-2009, 10:30 AM
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The child woke up and Cercelee felt guilty for the confusion, and perhaps fear, she read on the youth’s face. The words that came from the girl’s lips were thick and foreign, they could not be decoded by Cercelee’s brain, she wasn’t even sure what language the child spoke. She could hear the inflections as the girl spoke, knowing she was being asked questions, but helpless to answer. Than a name she recognized, and Cercelee laid her ears flat against her skull. Ceres Sadira. Perhaps it was her association with the dead lady that had brought the pups here today. As if sharing blood with a ghost made her trustworthy. Well, Cercelee was trustworthy, but not because of that. Shaking her head, she hoped she could convey to the child what needed to be said.
Ceres is dead. I’m Cercelee. The names were similar, so much in fact many of her relatives believed her to be named in honor of the matriarch. Maybe they were right, Cer hoped they were wrong, but only Adrastos really knew. It was unlikely that she would get to ask him again. Navy eyes swept over the sleeping children again. Were they truly meant for her? Again she regarded the note, unable to fully read it. Would their mother return? Was she suppose to do something more with them? So many questions, and she doubted she could get any answers from the child. They did not even speak the same language. Who is your mother? Where’d she go?
The child woke up and Cercelee felt guilty for the confusion, and perhaps fear, she read on the youth’s face. The words that came from the girl’s lips were thick and foreign, they could not be decoded by Cercelee’s brain, she wasn’t even sure what language the child spoke. She could hear the inflections as the girl spoke, knowing she was being asked questions, but helpless to answer. Than a name she recognized, and Cercelee laid her ears flat against her skull. Ceres Sadira. Perhaps it was her association with the dead lady that had brought the pups here today. As if sharing blood with a ghost made her trustworthy. Well, Cercelee was trustworthy, but not because of that. Shaking her head, she hoped she could convey to the child what needed to be said.
Ceres is dead. I’m Cercelee. The names were similar, so much in fact many of her relatives believed her to be named in honor of the matriarch. Maybe they were right, Cer hoped they were wrong, but only Adrastos really knew. It was unlikely that she would get to ask him again. Navy eyes swept over the sleeping children again. Were they truly meant for her? Again she regarded the note, unable to fully read it. Would their mother return? Was she suppose to do something more with them? So many questions, and she doubted she could get any answers from the child. They did not even speak the same language. Who is your mother? Where’d she go?