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[center]A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012, nearly 2 PM[/center]

Sonya walked with a spring in her step that she had not felt in some time. The beauty of Paris almost equaled that of St. Petersburg, but there was no means of comparison between the two. Where St. Petersburg boasted unified design, with splashes of color among the snow covered buildings, playing off their reflections in the water, built around centerpieces of palaces and churches and other beautiful things, Paris was entirely different. Several unique monuments marked the landscape, towering structures that stood out among the rest; there was no water, little nature, except around its center, around the Eiffel Tower. So much seemed artificial, but not fake- merely artistic. Where St. Petersburg was built around its people, Paris was built to stand out. The beauty of Paris was intentional, while the beauty of her home was incidental. 

As she walked, Dmitri began to whine, squirming in Sonya's arms. She recognized this little noise, and began to search for a private spot to feed him. The child was nine months and a bit, teeth coming in, but his mother could not afford formula. Legislation protected breastfeeding mothers, but legislation could not remove the stigma surrounding such things. Out of a fear of confrontation, Sonya waited to find a private spot before feeding her son.

[color=fff79a]"Митя, минуточку, солнышко..." [/color]

Sonya looked down at the little boy, as he became quiet, and smiled back up at her. Her heart melted for a moment, and she hugged the baby close. He was acting quite well, in such a new environment. He gazed around at the new beauty of Paris, soaking it all in the way only an innocent child can. While she looked up at the wonders of Parisian architecture and design, at the fashions of the people around her, the boy saw equivalent wonders everywhere, even in the dirt. Dmitri was only in the lowest percentile for his age group, in terms of weight and size. The baby looked to be several months younger than he really was, particularly with that helmet on his head. The helmet- black, with his nickname "Митя" painted on the front- rested against Sonya's chest, cold even through her blouse. Little Mitya did not seem to register the cold plastic clutching his skull as something odd, he merely enjoyed life. 

After several minutes of searching, and being turned away from establishments that insisted that only customers could use rest areas, the baby began to cry. Sonya ducked into the first building she saw- a hotel, the same hotel designated the escort point on the letter. She did not take time to marvel at the stylish design of the lobby, instead, she hid herself in a corner, trying to be invisible. Taking little Mitya out of the makeshift carrier she had styled from her blanket, Sonya noticed something odd. 

The boy had a lump in his neck, the size of one of his tiny fists. He continued whimpering, sitting on the floor now, unsure of what was wrong. Sonya stared with sorrow at the child, before finally taking action.

With care, Sonya gently removed the helmet, and pulled her son into her lap. She ran a hand through the thick layer of curly black hair covering his little head. He was quiet for a moment, before whining again. Bracing the child with one hand, her arm supporting his head, Sonya began to massage the calcification from his neck. Dmitri grew louder, and louder, crying out in pain from the massage, but after a minute, that pain subsided. The lump, though, was still there. Bracing her son against her knee, Sonya helped him turn his head from side to side- to look right was easy, but left impossible, due to the lump. The strain caused him to whimper, as she slowly worked the lump out from his neck. Dmitri stared straight ahead, whining, but putting up with the stretch.

[color=c4df9b]"мама!" [/color]

Dmitri called out, and Sonya stopped. The lump had started to slink away, falling apart beneath his skin. With a smile, Sonya picked Dmitri up, and held him close.

[color=fff79a]"О, прости, любовь моя. Я просто хочу помочь тебе почувствовать себя лучше."[/color] 

With a stealthy look around the lobby, Sonya noted that no one was paying her any mind. The staff at the front desk ignored her, and the few patrons passing through did not seem to register her presence. She was not invisible, but she was as close as one could get. Unbuttoning her blouse, Sonya turned to face the wall, hiding herself further. Using her wool blanket, she covered herself and her son, and held him up to her chest. She watched the baby, but paid close mind to the door.

[color=fff79a]"В этом мире мы одиноки, солнышко..."[/color]