Snippet #1110792

Amunet mechanically finished drying the dishes, watching Kit go about the chore. When she had first met her, Kit had seemed so young, but the longer she knew her, the more she thought she was a bit older, not because of looks but because of the things she said sometimes. In fact, a lot of her words were very similar to her sister's. Amunet wondered what Kit's sister was like. If she was the strong one but still like Kit, she may have been very similar to Isis.

"Her name was Isis," Amunet said in response, the words coming from nowhere and shocking her a bit, "My sister, I mean. She was the strong one too. I've always depended on her strength, and when she died,...it's like I lost that part of me, that strength I got from her...But I got up and kept moving. i had no choice but to live. I knew that's what my sister would have wanted, for me to at least try and live...So I found a reason to, to kill the people who killed her." Amunet clenched her fists with a mixture of anger and grief. She didn't know why she had spoken so much of Isis. Usually just a thought would bring her to tears.

In an effort to calm herself, Amunet took a few deep breaths and relaxed her hands, ignoring the crescents imprinted into her skin. She could not allow herself to lose control. With a forced smile Kit couldn't even see, Amunet began to gather dried dishes and put them away, finding their spots by rummaging through the cabinets.

"So, how old are you?" Amunet asked with pretty convincing cheer.