The Lost Ones

She shuddered. It sickened her to know that there was more. That there was a tangled web of Phaytes, a lineage of mad killers out there somewhere. It sickened her moreso to know that they shared the same name. She swallowed the bile in her throat, nodding at him. She forced the frown to leave her lips for a moment and said assuringly, "You don't give the Kringles a horrid name." It was meant to be a compliment but she wondered if it was ill-timed.

It seemed he had already made a decision before her question was asked; for he chose with ease. The word sister still seemed odd; for her whole life it had been spoken from Squee and Nyan's little voices, or the elder siblings. Yet he was new to her. She couldn't deny that he was regal, and something about his tone made her glad to have him as a brother. "And you my brother," she added. Her blue eyes blinked as he spoke, and it seemed they had more than one thing in common. She hoped that they would not be the only ones left. That she could find her dear litter-mates in good spirits and save the family name. "Where should we... Start?" she asked. "The last time I saw them was a few day's behind me... I'm not sure exactly which path they may have taken." It was hard to explain how she had lost them in the first place. How she was a complete utter failure. But perhaps he would have an idea? It seemed now that only blind luck and faith would return her to Squee and Nyan.