07-16-2011, 05:42 PM
Standing with the door only just opened, Kiera managed to see in the jumping of the candlelight the newcomer who had followed the mere spirit of his long-lost mother into the house. The only solace he had was knowing Dmitri would stay hidden at least until morning, when the storm had finally moved on. He hated rain, the noise it made, it was all too much for him to comprehend. Kiera was always so thankful for those storm clouds to move in, but that night it had harbored even worse coming. A young woman, trapped in the prison of his house, the gate locked behind her. Kiera was paralyzed in the den, unmoving, a child in appearance as he stared at the soaking human.
He could almost hear the voice of his mother, calling to her, luring her into the house and out of the rain. It was not the spirit's fault; she was trapped in a realm all her own, where she still lived, and still felt. As though the spirit itself had left her body before Dmitri had dragged her to her death, she felt a need to bring in the lost, those she found who had nowhere to go, as if Dmitri had never even existed. He could often feel her near. He would hear whispers in the dark, her voice soothing his anger, his fear, his hatred for the gardener.
Kiera felt misplaced, though, with an outsider so near. She radiated a feel he had never sensed, something alien, something strange. Artificial, almost, and his mind returned to the cities. Cities, cars, so much that changed and left them behind, so much odd to him, to what his family would have been had they survived that night. She looked cold, he considered, a bit scared. She appeared the same size as his mother as well, at least near enough to be able to wear her clothes and get out of those weighing her down and possibly leaving her open to illness. And illness was a death sentence.
Slowly, he curled his hands around the door, pulling it open, but staying behind it. He moved just enough to be seen by her if she looked to her right.
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