01-18-2010, 02:28 AM
Mother stepped into the tent with Lost on one of her shoulders. He had recently eaten, and looked much like he had before the . . . incident. He was whispering to Mother when she entered the tent's canvas flap, but stopped immediately when he saw Isis on the bed. His black eyes looked at the girl with an expression that spoke multitudes - yet nothing at all.
"Good morning, little one," Mother smiled down at Isis, and reached up to help Lost down from her shoulder. Setting him on the bed, the old woman glanced between the two before stepping over to sit on a rickety wooden chair. Pulling one of the scattered papers out of a pile, she began to scribble something, completely ignoring the two dolls.
Lost stood a few feet away from Isis, watching her with a neutral expression. Stepping up to the edge of the bed, he sat with his legs hanging over it's side. She wasn't familiar, but something told him he'd seen her before. Staring at the dirt ground below, the doll brushed his dark hair away from his eyes and frowned in concentration. Things didn't feel right. Nothing seemed . . . right. Like there was something that he should remember, but couldn't quiet recall what it was. Glancing over his shoulder to Isis, Lost turned quickly back to look at the floor.
Last edited by Esmme; 01-18-2010 at 02:30 AM..
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