[color=D6CC88][u][b]A ways from the campsite[/b][/u]

Ethan brushed off the girl's concern, ruffling her hair, but he was rapidly progressing into signs of fever.  She frowned at him.  She'd thought he would be okay, but it looked like she was wrong, and there wasn't anything she could do at the moment to help.

Cecil didn't seem to understand why they were worried about him.  "It's because we care about you," Amuné told the Machina, going over and patting his shoulder.  She would have given him a hug, but he was lying down.  But now Nymira was pulling her aside.  The girl looked up at the Dimuran, confused.  And then....

And then the woman asked the question Amuné dreaded.  She tried to keep her fear from showing, but Nymira could likely see it all too clearly, and how she scrambled for a good answer.  "They smelled like rot and disease.  That sort of thing makes you sick -- it's bad."  She hoped Nymira would accept that, but the woman wasn't blind, nor was she as accepting as Ethan.  Amuné flinched when the Dimuran made it clear she saw through the girl's lie.  

"I don't want you guys to not like me," the child whispered, starting to shake.  Her daddy hadn't exactly said that other Magi might dislike her for her gift, but she'd put a few different things together and drawn that conclusion for herself.  "Please, don't tell them?"  She glanced at Nymira again before looking down to her bare feet.  "I...I'm a Magi too -- like you and Ethan and Cecil.  But...but Daddy says my gift is rare and often misunderstood."  Amuné hesitated, taking an uneven breath.  "I see...things.  Things that happened...or things that might happen."[/color]