“Emotion isn’t weakness,” Amuné argued, brow wrinkling.  She didn’t understand how someone could cut themselves off from what they felt.  To someone who felt the emotions of others in so direct a manner, it was an utterly alien concept.  “Not having any...that sounds terribly lonely.”  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, if she couldn’t feel sadness or grief or anger.  But a life without joy and laughter and warmth seemed bleak indeed.  She frowned as a thought occurred to her.  “Besides, you’re lying.  I remember the Masquerade.  Your laughter might have been fake, but when you shed tears, they were real.”  Certain details of that night had lodged securely in her memory, and a number of them were those that included Cain.  The girl turned the mask she’d been given over in her hands, looking disappointed.  She hoped the lie was well-intentioned, even though she couldn’t see the advantage in this particular instance.  It was something even nice people did.  But he’d just claimed not to lie, and in addition to the faint sting of the implied insult, maybe she had allowed herself the foolish hope that, this once, she’d found someone who really didn’t.

The suggestion of heading back was met with a heavy sigh.  Amuné might be in a better mood now, but she didn’t feel ready to face everyone quite yet.  Still, she knew she should return.  “Very well.”  Despite her efforts, her tone was glum as she got to her feet and started back down the deer trail she’d taken through the woods.  “Who are you supposed to be seeing?” the child asked, assuming that he’d made arrangements in advance, as was expected.  A school like the Liddell Academy didn’t let just anyone drop by, and she rather doubted he was family or friend of any of the other students.  Then again, he wasn’t the sort of person most would be comfortable acknowledging, so it was possible.

[@TheMinorFall]