River took a step back from Pox, still trying to keep the Little-One behind her.  Pox moved quickly from subject to subject, it seemed, and he brought up some good points.  The fact that they were able to communicate at all would be nothing short of a miracle if they’d merely been brought from different countries.  If they were from different worlds, then it wouldn’t be so far-fetched to believe that there would be such a difference in the types of people.  Although if he were right, River pressed a hand to her forehead, then what had become of Ferriveil?  Worse, what if he was wrong about them being able to go back, and worse still, what would be waiting for them if they could go back?

[color=6ecff6]“Er, yes?”[/color]  River said in response to Nale’s question before standing tall and showing her wings off a little.  [color=6ecff6]“I was born with wings, as were Mum and Dad, and Uncle Flint.  Everyone in my family is one of the Winged-People.  We’re not demons, or servants of the Almighty, or magical beings, or anything like that.”[/color]  She didn’t know of anyone who could change their whole shape in the way he described.  This man had dozens of questions for all them about their homelands.

Speaking of magic was something that River had little knowledge.  She’d mostly be paraphrasing half-remembered snippets she’d heard from Thomas or Viscaria, something about affinities?  All she knew was that Viscaria manipulated lightning for her dances.

The Little-One, Ahnciel, spoke up again, and managed to get out a hasty message between his fragmented speech and scratching words out in the blood splatter, a message which Uriel hastened to scrub away after they’d read it.  Ahnciel was still visibly shaking, trying to clean the blood from his fingertip.  Although River was at least somewhat used to being elbow-deep in viscera from butchering her own meat, she wasn’t without sympathy for the squeamish.  She moved over to him and wrapped a wing around his shoulders.

[color=6ecff6]“We should yell at those two in the storeroom to find you something decent to write on.  A slate and chalk would make your situation a lot easier.” 
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