[color=D6CC88][u][b]On the Road[/b][/u]

Wyth hissed at Ethan, but stopped when his girl choked out, "Wyth, d-down."  He paced around the man in agitation.  The mixed signals confused him.  The man had upset his girl, but she still thought he was okay, and now she was letting him pick her up?  He was concerned, and maybe a little jealous.  Comforting his girl was [i]his[/i] job, why was she letting this stranger do it?  He made a few small noises of complaint, but obeyed the command to stop being aggressive about it.

Amuné wrapped her arms around Ethan's forehead and wept into his hair.  She had a terrible sinking feeling when he said they'd see her father again, and she resolutely turned her mind away from any hint of her magic, doing her best not to invoke it despite how desperately she wanted to see her daddy alive and well.  She wouldn't be able to bear it if he wasn't.  As much as she loved her mother, Amuné was her daddy's girl.  She loved watching him carve wooden things, or just listen to the sound of his voice.

Her sobbing quieted after a minute or two, and by then she was worn out by the intensity of her outburst.  She was content to let Ethan carry her, and rest her head against the back of his.  She gave the distressed moorcat a watery smile.  "It's okay, Wyth.  We'll be okay."  She listened curiously to Cecil speak of what little he remembered.  It was funny, thinking that Machina might have memories.  But he seemed nice enough, and he'd helped her and Ethan when the man was worn out from using his magic.  "Sounds like he has amnesia," she said at last, her voice unsteady but thoughtful.  "Maybe he hit his head?  My mommy says that can make you forget things.  Old people forget too, but you're not old, Cecil, you're barely older than me.  But amnesia, there's no mundane treatment.  You'd need a healer, one with the blessing of Saint Edos, and even then there's no guarantee...."  The girl trailed off before looking down.  "And most Magi are not using their magic now, so finding one would be hard," she finished, her expression glum.  She didn't really understand /why/ Magi weren't liked anymore, only that it had something to do with the Church.

She'd never been to an actual Church building.  Her village only had a small public shrine with an altar to the Nine Saints in the meeting hall, though she had been there.  Her mother preferred praying there, though she also had a small shrine to Saint Edos in their house.  Her father had tiny figures of Saint Oranoak and Saint Kedo, since he was Ydran and had Kedo's blessing, but no actual altar.  He never went to the public altar either, saying that a person's relationship with the saints was deeply personal.  It was a matter of where your heart was, not where your body was located.  That memory made her eyes sting again, so to avoid crying she tried to focus on Cecil.  "Um, I've never met a Machina like you either.  We only had a few in my village, and they were old and pretty simple.  Do you think most of the ones in the cities are more like you are?"[/color]