Lys: A Small Part Of One's Self

"And what name would that be? From all I've heard, you haven't got one, imp." She shot the boy a vaguely amused look.

There was apple cake on the table, and she sliced him some, handing it down his way as a sort of truce offering, in return for the one he'd offered earlier.

She had thought the Guttersnipe a bit harsh in her wording, but she understood it. She had so much waiting for her, and no certainty of ever having it. Even prepared for death, there had to be a bit of a twinge at the thought. It was like when a friend died- one was happy they were with Christos, but a small bit of one's self could not help wishing they were still with one.

She sighed. They were a group, they were. Herself included.