[ She is that easy to read, is she? Ciri almost laughs, but the thought of it gets caught in her throat, squeezed out by the hard lump that sits there until she swallows it down. It's for the best; it would have been a horrible sound.
Her head lifts slightly, eyes open now, staring at something unseen. She doesn't look at him. ]
A girl. [ It comes out soft, torn around the edges. ]
no subject
Her head lifts slightly, eyes open now, staring at something unseen. She doesn't look at him. ]
A girl. [ It comes out soft, torn around the edges. ]
Her name was Mistle.
We got matching roses. It hurt like a bitch.