Lyta's eyes followed the kerchief as Daryll set it down and retreated, listening to his offer. She could go anywhere. Anywhere she wanted. Even if the idea terrified her, the choice was there. She had no idea how to live on her own. And [i]really[/i] no idea how to live while being some freak who sent things flying. 
But she wasn't the only one. Were they gathering all the others? Collecting them? Her brown eyes went from face to face, her brows knit together in horrified concern. Their faces seemed genuine. But that simply meant they were far better at hiding lies than her mother and step-father. 

"Lyta!" Speaking of whom, her mother called from downstairs. The pink-haired woman turned her head, her eyes pointing in that direction. "You're staying! You're not going with them!"
"Why, because you not get money for her?" The pink-haired woman shouted back. 
"How dare you!" Her step-father snarled. 
"Women not for sale!" Her teeth were bared, revealing sharp canines, like cat. 
[i]What[/i] is [i]she?[/i] Lyta wondered. 
As her parents muttered and grumbled, the pink-haired one slipped out of the room, standing at the landing to argue with them. Lyta's gaze went to the tall woman, then the man, who had yet to stop staring at her. 

"Okay." Lyta said quietly. Somehow hearing her answer, the sharp-toothed one reappeared at the door, glancing at her. "O-Okay, I'll go with you. If you promise," She repeated with emphasis towards Daryll. [i]No lies.[/i]
"Do you have to pack?" The strange woman asked, and Lyta looked around her broken room.
[i]I did all this.[/i] Lyta remembered. Not really having forgotten, simply in fear. If they put her in front of the Empress, what would happen? 
[i]They're going to help you.[/i] Lyta inhaled, sighing. [i]They're going to help you control it.[/i]

Slowly, she stood up, leaving the kerchief on the ground, Sideways, she moved towards the bed, her limp slight as she dug into the mattress, a tear long ago made so she could hide things rom her parents. What she withdrew was a ragged ... even Ysaryn wasn't sure. It looked similar to a woolen knit sock, though on each end were two thin brown hangings, and at the top something bulbous. She tucked it against herself protectively, then nodded, still looking incredibly pale at the idea.