Jorr jolted slightly. The words were delivered slowly, but emphasis after emphasis made it sound demanding. She straightened herself in an apprehensive posture. If she was making a mistake, she would say sorry if she didn't do what she was supposed to do she would do it, if she had to be silent she--

"[color=7bcdc8]I want ya's ta be yaself-- Knows yaself-- [i]owns[/i] yaself-- [b][i]decides[/i][/b] fo' yaself-- and knows what yas likes, dislikes, and wan's fo' yaself. ... ... I kin tells this a big thang ta ask fer.  .. .. Dun wurry 'bout it.  I kin tells ya ain't ne'er done nut'n like at afore.  But I'l be aright---'ats w'at I wants, and all I wants from ya. Nuttin' else. [/color]"

Cedar's words sounded like nothing but pity. And for Jorr, her first instinctive reaction to it was to be wary. Decided for herself? What was that? The concept was strange as it was fearful to her. As far as he could remember, her life was always decided by others; by her parents, by the merchant who bought and sold her to a master, then to another, and another. She had experienced the pain of making her own choices and had paid dearly for it.

Cedar's words, though encouraging were full of rambling nonsense. Part of her wanted to defy it, screaming [i]lies![/i] at the top of her wounded lungs, but she had been so conditioned with years of servitude that the only thing that came out was the word "Yes."

Without 'master'. 

"[color=7bcdc8]Bein' free ta choose be da birthrigh' of E'ERY thinkin' bein', lil' lady. [/color]" "[color=7bcdc8]An 'at include you too.[/color]"

Is that a request or demand? She could not fathom, not now, not today. After what happened, she only wanted to be left alone. To weep a bit more, to think... what was thinking?  To decide? The silliest phrase was somehow engraved strikingly in her mind. She looked at Cedar, and her reply came in delay. 

[i][color=a0410d]"Jormungand..."[/color][/i]

The name now brought up some mixed memories about her deceased master, yet she uttered it not because it was given, but because it was hers. [color=a0410d]"My name is Jormungand. Please call me Jorry"[/color]

It was the first thing she had decided, and she looked at Cedar and searched for approval, but she found nothing of sort. Only a thin grin from his elongated jaw. [i]Did I do it right? Is it okay to ask for more?[/i] 

"Cedar-- I'am--" she reached for the bread and showed it to him a like child showing off a handmade toy. [color=a0410d]"Can I have this?"[/color]