She was only mildly curious about what he was doing, though her crying had gone from sobs to sniffles.  When Cain pressed the gift into her hands, she looked at it for a moment.  She thought he meant well by it, but all Amuné could think of just then was how people hid venom behind smiles.  Her expression twisted in disgust and hurt.  “No!”  She threw the thing from her, and it slid across the sparse grass that grew below the willow’s shade.  “I hate masks!  They’re just more lies!”  It didn’t matter that it wasn’t really the accessory she disliked, but the idea it represented.  The girl pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her skirts, tears flowing freely again.  Polite society was nothing but saying one thing even if you meant another, with layers of subtlety and never, ever being truly honest.  She hated it.

[@TheMinorFall]