Snippet #974166

Jumping when her wrist was grabbed, the pouring spoon clattered back into its respectful serving bowl. Jerking her arm a bit, embers widened into huge circles from the shock. No one had dared touch her since she had last been around a particular monstrocity. She shuddered at the thought, brows furrowing when she snapped back to the present. "Mhm..." It was as if the cat had stolen Quintessence's tongue, and she was left staring right back at the strange guy before her. "A special one, at that." Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a glance was sent back to Sophie as a plea for help on the matter. What else could she do? She didn't have a free enough hand to start smacking him, and it was more her motto to spare the rod and spoil the child.

She could remember well the events leading up to each charm. Dance recitals and performances, but of course, the last... The last had been special. 'Is special,' she mentally corrected herself. Did it matter if the giver was dead and gone? She'd tried her hardest to forget, but each day, she woke up with some memory of something they'd done and regretted it all over again. 'Falling is another way of flying, Quin. You fell hard, got busted up, and now you'll never fly again.' Though, it didn't stop her from letting a comment slip out loud. "It seems you're somewhere far away." Fitting both for the train of thought and the current predicament, she shrugged it off.

Once he released her wrist, she swivelled stiffly back to the food line, pouring the grits about as fast as she could without dripping it. "Soph, I'd suggest something like oatmeal, and don't forget to take your vitamins. Those'll really help get over the illness faster. Stay away from a lot of sweets and drink milk too. Unless your lactose intolerant. which then, I suggest orange ju--" Cutting off with the sound of a clatter, her own tray was set aside before she slipped past the others in line. Grabbing up a few napkins as she went, lips turned down in a frown, a soft chant of "Oh, no," hanging on her lips.

"Here, grab my hand," she finally chirped, fingers crooking expectantly. It was better than getting on the floor to clean him up, but if he was really concerned with what people thought, Quin could see it being better. No one to point, laugh, or anything like that. If they did, though, she'd make a mental list and report it. At least, taunting kids should always get in some trouble. Scooping the tray up, though, it was set aside on the closest table before she mustered half a smile. "At least it's not so bad. No scrapes or anything bad. A lot better than what happens to me when I fall." A soft, bitter laugh finished the sentence before the napkins were held at the ready to dab his face into a non-syrup wonder. "At least you taste good now. Sweet to kiss, hmm? Some girls'll have all the luck."