A small pixie-like girl dashed inside, eyes alert despite the gashes on her forehead and arms. She slammed the door and slumped down against it. “Thanks.”
She was silent for a minute. The landscape reminded her somewhat of home— rolling green fields and farms off to the left and behind. It wasn’t a welcome comparison.
“What did your home look like?”
“Maybe they’re afraid we’ll mess something up.”
Livetha peeked her nose out of Beosta’s cloak, then immediately curled back up. Beosta stroked her absently.