<blockquote>The lady's breath as stuck in her throat. The lad tried to prepare himself for the story she would tell. He had a couple images of disasters striking Adonia's family, of her siblings not getting along with her. Or her to change the subject. He would have liked to think he would have changed the subject, or drifted around the real point in her place. Feminine tone broke the temporary silence. Black, triangle points flipped upward. She did not go into details of what crime she was accused of. He believed her to be innocent, like she'd said. Yet, forced to leave home, at an age he was so close to? That seemed harsh, why hadn't her family believed her?
<b>"I'm glad you found this place, and a new home you like,"</b> he said, trying to put things in a postive line. He smiled, and it slowly drooped. Him? He should have expected the turned question. It was a given after what he'd just asked. A puff of breath flew from his lips. He wanted to lie, but he was a bad liar. He had made up stories as a baby, but nothing believable. He had never really pictured his life any other way it'd be obvious he wasn't telling the truth.
Swallowing a titch of air he said, <b>"Well, my parents died in a wildfire in the Wildwoods. My elder brothers took me, and my litter mates away to Swift River. We stayed there, but the water started drying up so some of us left. It came back, and we did too."</b> His tone was rather detached, like that wasn't the story of his life. It was someone else's. Eyes blinked and he turned his head around staring off behind him. Clearing his throat he stood up. <b>"So, this is an orchard? What kind of fruit do you think grows here?"</b> He peered up at the blossoming branches, clear he didn't want to talk about things.</blockquote>
are you with me through it all?