In Your Head They're Still Fighting

The way she squinted down at him stirred something strange in the boy's chest, and he wanted to scowl at her. He wouldn't though, because that was wrong. Rudeness was not something mother tolerated, and he wasn't yet good enough with words to express his disdain artfully to skirt the boundaries of impropriety. "What? No, I don't have a mother." she grunted, and now the young wraith was taken aback. No mother? That wasn't good, who was taking care of her? She looked old enough that she didn't need milk, but she shouldn't be out and about with no mother to keep her warm at bedtime and tell her stories. That wasn't good at all. Before he could unleash his tirade of concerns upon her, she spoke up again. "No, I bought this stuff. Seen a bunch of wolves with stuff like it, so I had to have some." she explained, and that made some sense. Well, the part that she'd seen others with them, and decided she also wanted some. She was strong enough to go out and get what she wanted, though the concept of 'buying' was a little bit fuzzy to the young male. Regardless, it made sense that she was in the pack, under the watchful gaze of God and the family. She was strong, and didn't seem like the type to idle, if she was willing to go out and acquire those neat garments.

"How did you bought it? Can I also do that too?" he questioned next, keen to learn if he could adorn himself in a way similar to some of the wolves he'd spotted through the treeline around the shrine throughout his day.

"talking" thinking actions