[img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/28f5c8d08a10db13d7323bd8a274eb79/tumblr_olgfq5iWuY1tkzrnno1_1280.jpg[/img]

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

Sonya flinched when the man spoke. She turned away from him momentarily, hiding her flushed face and exposed chest. Removing the blanket, she folded it into a neat little square, and slipped it into her satchel. Dmitri let go, and she set him down on the floor, where he sat contentedly, gazing up at the man. Sonya buttoned up her blouse again, readjusting everything to cover her chest. After a minute, she was presentable. However, she still did not look up at the man. Embarrassment ran through her veins with a hot ferociousness, and it took her a moment to summon up the courage and ability to speak. Little Dmitri cooed, falling backwards to lie flat on the floor. 

[color=fff79a]"Мне еще нужно накормить ребенка обедом-"[/color] She paused for a moment, realizing that the man had spoken English, and reacquainted herself with language. [color=fff79a]"I was feeding my son. I do not know laws regarding feeding in public, so I came in here not to offend."[/color] Gingerly, she approached each word with uncertainty, trying to enunciate clearly. Her voice, though smooth and soothing as honey, was broken by her thick accent, the breaks between words uneven and rough. It had been several months since she had last spoken English, so her voice was used to the timbre and style of Russian. 

Dmitri reached up towards his mother, and Sonya pulled him into her lap. Twirling her fingers through his hair, she smiled, and finally looked up at the man. [color=fff79a]"This is my little sunshine, Mitya. Say hello, Mitya."[/color] Mitya did not speak, but his face broke into a lopsided smile. Sonya picked up from the floor Dmitri's helmet, and placed it on his little head. Fixing the velcro straps into place on the back of his head, careful not to catch any of his hair in the seams, she was as gentle as possible. Once secured in place, Sonya lifted Dmitri up into her arms, and pushed herself up, to stand. 

[color=fff79a]"Oh, черт возьми, I'm fine."[/color] She lifted Dmitri up, and the little boy let out a giggle, and Sonya's smile grew softer. She brought him close once more, and her fleeting smile faded. She reached down, and with a fair amount of difficulty, picked up the satchel, and slung it over her shoulder. Reaching inside, she pulled out the envelope, and the map enclosed within, looking at it with a renewed frown. [color=fff79a]"Though I am not sure where I am. I can not read французскому, French."[/color]

Dmitri, with his pudgy little arms, kneaded at his own neck, where the lump had been. Still staring at the man with wide, smiling eyes, he reached out his other arm to try to touch this new person. Curious and confused, he looked up at his mom, as though asking for an explanation. Sonya raised her own hand to quietly lower her son's arm. [color=fff79a]"Митя, не груби."[/color]

She tucked the map back into the envelope, but did not slip the envelope back into the satchel. Rather, she handed it to the baby, letting him hold the thick package for a little while. For some reason, he seemed to enjoy the roughness of the parchment, crinkling the corners, playing with the flaps and contents within. Dmitri was very easily amused, it seemed, by the simplest of things.