you pour the water —
There is something strange about the boy that calls to the something strange in her own heart. Something about the demonic presence that echoes in the souls that stalk her sides, the shadows of them nearly growing faint as though they might fade in the shadow of her inattention. It is comforting and she is not yet self-aware enough to discern whether it is normal to be comforted by the things that might deter others. She merely knows it strikes at her curiosity like flint to steel, burning in the depths of her eyes.
“I am very good at going unseen,” she offers in explanation, not picking up on the emphasis on his version of seen and glazing over it as one might expect. She does, however, note the challenge in his eyes when he looks toward her sentinels and she approves—even appreciates the bravery in facing down the undead. But she does not call them off. Instead she summons them closer, the two moving from the shadows to come stand near her side, leaning over the back of her as if arching in protection.
Her smile lifting in the corners of her mouth, she moves forward at his invitation. She steps closer to him so that she can peer into the cave that he guards, the souls rankling by remaining behind her.
“Baptiste,” she offers without a second thought, eyes narrowing as if she might see better.
“Who are you?”
— I would haul the stones
