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mamasgirl"Mama?"
Even as the word passes Lilly's lips, she knows it's pointless. She might not know where she's turned up but she knows for a fact that Mama isn't around. She was there - or, at least, Lilly had been with her. She's still wearing the crown of flowers that Mama made, is still adorned in her dirty night clothes and tattered bathrobe, and can still feel the bite in her cheeks from the wind as it whipped past her while she fell off the cliff, toward the water, safe in Mama's arms.
Without Victoria. That thought makes Lilly frown and stop in her tracks on her way to the trees thirty feet or so away. Victoria said no. Victoria didn't want to come with them. The loss of her sister is something Lilly has never experienced and therefore doesn't know how to handle. Her sister has always been there. To go anywhere, even with Mama, without Victoria, seems wrong.
That doesn't seem to matter now, though. Although unquestionably young, and certainly underdeveloped both mentally as well as physically, Lilly is far from stupid. She understands more than she lets on and she's capable of more than she normally does. This situation is no exception. She knows, with absolute certainty, that she's alone in a strange place. Neither Victoria nor Mama is here. She also knows, with equal certainty, that she needs to get to safety.
For Lilly, that's always, always the woods.
Fortunately, the trees aren't too far from where she's arrived and, after shaking off the overwhelming sense of sorrow at her sister's betrayal, it takes very little time for her to reach them. Once in an area that's a touch more secluded, she next sets out gathering up bits of twigs and brush to build an area for her to rest.
That is, until she hears the telltale sound of someone approaching. Immediately Lilly drops into a crouch. A low sound comes from her throat - similar to a sound an animal might make while warning another animal that it is encroaching on its territory - and she scurries quickly on all fours - palms and feet flat on the ground and back arched unnaturally high - to a nearby tree. She doesn't climb it, and won't unless she feels threatened, but instead she simply begins to wait for whoever is approaching to make their presence known.
Even as the word passes Lilly's lips, she knows it's pointless. She might not know where she's turned up but she knows for a fact that Mama isn't around. She was there - or, at least, Lilly had been with her. She's still wearing the crown of flowers that Mama made, is still adorned in her dirty night clothes and tattered bathrobe, and can still feel the bite in her cheeks from the wind as it whipped past her while she fell off the cliff, toward the water, safe in Mama's arms.
Without Victoria. That thought makes Lilly frown and stop in her tracks on her way to the trees thirty feet or so away. Victoria said no. Victoria didn't want to come with them. The loss of her sister is something Lilly has never experienced and therefore doesn't know how to handle. Her sister has always been there. To go anywhere, even with Mama, without Victoria, seems wrong.
That doesn't seem to matter now, though. Although unquestionably young, and certainly underdeveloped both mentally as well as physically, Lilly is far from stupid. She understands more than she lets on and she's capable of more than she normally does. This situation is no exception. She knows, with absolute certainty, that she's alone in a strange place. Neither Victoria nor Mama is here. She also knows, with equal certainty, that she needs to get to safety.
For Lilly, that's always, always the woods.
Fortunately, the trees aren't too far from where she's arrived and, after shaking off the overwhelming sense of sorrow at her sister's betrayal, it takes very little time for her to reach them. Once in an area that's a touch more secluded, she next sets out gathering up bits of twigs and brush to build an area for her to rest.
That is, until she hears the telltale sound of someone approaching. Immediately Lilly drops into a crouch. A low sound comes from her throat - similar to a sound an animal might make while warning another animal that it is encroaching on its territory - and she scurries quickly on all fours - palms and feet flat on the ground and back arched unnaturally high - to a nearby tree. She doesn't climb it, and won't unless she feels threatened, but instead she simply begins to wait for whoever is approaching to make their presence known.
