08-19-2009, 11:12 AM
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Though Fatin had served as his surrogate mother (and indeed, he considered her to be just that), the touch and comfort of such a thing had been long-gone from his life. Still, he remained as calm as he was able and listened to her words. It seemed that the woman had experienced this sort of thing before, and for this reason, he believed her. Though there was no reason he would automatically trust the woman, it was instinct that allowed him to realize she would not harm him.
Despite the doubt that lingered, Ezekiel managed to smile faintly. God would watch over her as long as he believed that He would. They all had guardian angels—his had been the woad-painted woman that lived with the demon. Stranger things had happened, he supposed. “Yeah,” he said, and then added: “Yeah. She’ll be okay.” Lifting his head, he stared into the scarred woman’s face and found that they shared similar traits—the eyes and roan streak, especially. “You don’t look anything like my dad,” he said half-heartedly, wondering if any of her children had taken the peculiar coat pattern that she had. [/html]