Snippet #2811990

Eilin wasn't sure what to expect as an answer out of Sverre. Even knowing that he was not human, she couldn't imagine what else he could look like aside from... well... simply himself. But it was that familiarity, that form she had come to know and expect. Underneath, logically, she knew he was different. It was a little surprising to her, still, to hear him talk about it and as he described his natural form she tried to picture it knowing full well that the real thing could possibly not live up to her own imagination. She had seen many forms of these demons, yet none that matched his aside from the so-called pets of the packs that sometimes accompanied their raiding parties.

Were those half demons too, then?

Eilin found herself looking away from him in thought as she took another spoonful of the stew. She was holding the bowl gingerly in her strapped-up hand, using her good arm for feeding herself. It seemed to work as well as anything, yet she could hardly taste the food that was surely prepared well by the cook. Her thoughts were too distant and the deep ache in her shoulder constant, leaving little room for her mind to process what it was that she was eating. She simply knew she needed the sustenance and was never one to question a meal when she could get it.

"I see," she finally replied. No, she had no desire to see this form. There was a child within her, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the shattered memories of her days spent with Sverre, and that part wanted to simply see him as an innocent human. No matter how much her logical reasoning screamed at her that it was foolish to pretend at this point. Suspicion still gnawed at her, brought on by the easy manner in which he flitted through the society, all sweet-talk and questionable intentions.

"I went back the next morning," she heard herself speak before she realized she had done so. Her gaze only momentarily flitted back to Sverre before dropping to her bowl of stew. A few spoon fulls already settling into her stomach, she managed to pause herself just long enough to not be speaking with her mouth full.

Having started on the past thoughts, though, she now found she wasn't even sure why she had brought it up. It wasn't like he was there for the aftermath, not that she knew of.

"There was nothing left. Just the foundation of where our house stood. I couldn't even find them in the ash and rubble," she stirred the stew idly, perhaps a little too fiercely than it warranted. "I found tracks, leading away into the forest, and followed them. Didn't know if they were others survivors or the demon pack. It didn't matter, probably. I lost tracks soon enough anyway. That's when I knew there was nothing left for me there."

Perhaps she needed him to hear it, the devastation that the pack had caused. She had never really spoken of that day to anyone since she was first taken in by travelers that she had run into several days later. At first she didn't want to face the realities of what had happened. Later, she didn't see the point of rehashing the past. And finally, she came to terms with the fact that the story was simply not meant for most to hear about.