[color=D6CC88]Amuné was weeping silently, tears she wasn't able to keep back.  She hurt for Ethan's loss, and she hurt because her Daddy had been hurt, and she hurt because she didn't know where her parents were, or if they were okay, or even if she would see them again.  Wyth was a warm pressure at her back.  At least she had him, and Ethan.  She hugged the Muran tighter, another shudder running through her.  This was wrong, wrong!

The sudden [i]slam[/i] made her jump, and she whirled around, leaning back against Ethan as she tried to figure out what was going on.  Wyth wasn't pleased by the noise either, his ears turning back and his hackles rising.  It was the sort of thing that preceded danger to his girl.  When none came, however, he relaxed again.

Amuné was too little to fight, and she knew it.  She wasn't even old enough to be useful -- she only knew a little about healing, not enough to be truly helpful, and she didn't have the Saints' blessing for it like her mother.  That was how it felt, just then.  She wasn't able to do anything.  She lowered her head.  Being scared wasn't wrong, the loud lady had it all wrong.  Not everyone was a hero.  Even people who wanted to make a difference, they weren't all heroes either.  And how did hiding out in a city with other Magi help anyone?  Sure, she and the winged Dimuran had come to their rescue, but she'd not seen anything else that said they were doing anything.  And the woman's last comment...she wanted more than anything to go back home, to find her mommy and daddy and forget any of the bad things had ever happened.  "I can't go back...even when I find them, we can't go back," she said softly as she turned to leave, still looking at her shoes.  She'd figured that out, even though she still wanted to.  Amuné took Ethan's hand as they stepped into the hall.

Food was far more welcome than she'd thought it would be, and smelling it made her realize that she was indeed hungry, even with how upset and worried she was.  She didn't respond to the winged man's comment about the mean lady and the Church.  When he made to split away, the girl quickly stepped after him, reaching to pluck at the fabric of his glove, since he didn't really have a sleeve or a shirt hem to tug.  "Hey...I don't think I said thank you for rescuing us...so thank you."  Now that she had a mostly-calm moment to look at him properly, she had at least a dozen questions for him about his wings, and the blade on his tail -- was that something he'd been born with?  But she didn't ask any of them for the moment.  Maybe some other time.  She wasn't really wanting to have a long discussion.  "And thanks for this--" she waved a hand to indicate the building.  "Letting us stay here, I mean, and dinner, and...."  She ducked her head for a moment, feeling awkward and shy.  "Just...thank you."  She looked up at him from behind the hair that had fallen in her face, and took a deep breath.  She'd been taught manners, hadn't she?  "I'm Amuné," she said, brushing the stray locks out of the way again.  "I-it's nice to meet you."[/color]