Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

She sat on her paws and waited with gritted teeth. She never had been very good at simply sitting there and watching terrible things unfold. She wasn’t a fighter, so she had fought back with what she had. Sarcasm, a sharp tongue. She didn’t feel either would work very well against an apparition. Perhaps she shouldn’t have spoken so sharply to Oleander, but storms, it hurt to hear it. To know her mother was dead, and this was the memory she would always have of the woman.

She was subtly shaking when Oleander returned to her. She grabbed the cup as soon as he handed it to her and scullled the lot of it. She let out a soft breath, trying to close her mind to the sounds and images behind her. “What was your childhood like, Oleander?” She whispered.


"Speech"