05-16-2010, 01:22 AM
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He didn’t need to explanation why a month in London was enough to drive him away, because she understood. Not even the charred lands to the north were as jam-packed as London was; there had been enough bodies there to make her insane. But they differed when it came to climates, because Corona had no real preference went it came to the climate. There had been times when the very grounds they stood on had been just as hot and humid as any southern venue, but she could also reason that they had probably been as cold as the Sobirat’sya he spoke of. Though she had to wonder what the world was like from on top, or at least as close as they could get to it without freezing half to death.
Still, she had taken the offered flask and a quick swig from it, barely making a face as the bite of the alcohol met her tongue. Keen on her sobriety, she had never really been one for drinking. There was apprehension towards the liquid, because she knew what it could do, she knew that she didn’t mind the taste, and there was perhaps a well-buried fear of what she would do if she took too much of a liking to it. The same went for everything else — Corona had always been blessed with stellar example of what too much of a good thing did.
That said, she couldn’t answer his question. She shrugged. What had brought her back here? A nagging, a feeling, a persistent sense of being misplaced everywhere else that she had never gone? It wasn’t that well-defined, let alone easy to pin down. “I guess there’s just something about this place that I can’t shake. I have a lot of family here too, so maybe that has something to do with it.” She wished she could have been more humorous about it. It would have been a lot more entertaining if it was simply to keep her siblings out of trouble, but she had no ties to them outside of Gabriel. It wasn’t to care for her mother, because she was capable of doing that on her own.
“What makes you stay here and not go back to your home?”