If the lich noticed the mark on Mika’s hand that might have given away what she had really been doing before the two of them had run into one another, he didn’t show it. But the fact was that he did.
He didn’t know what to think of it, though. Even if she was a thief, he doubted a child as soft-spoken as her would– wait, bad choice of words. She may not make any sounds when speaking, but the way she acted and something about her handwriting still gave him an impression of what tone she would have had behind her words.
Whatever the reason may have been, he decided it was nothing to berate her for. Not at the current moment.
His diamond-shaped eye lights continued to patiently watch the kid, without a sign of judgment or other negative feelings.
He noticed the way she had reacted to his little gift, too. It wasn’t much, but maybe it would end up being useful at some point. You never know.
Abraham knew that those who lost something didn’t always want it back, no matter how much they might miss it or how inconvenient it was not to have. Sometimes, the lack of that thing became as much a part of the person as the original thing had been.
He could know. After all these years, he couldn’t imagine himself as a normal, mortal human anymore.
Were those things even comparable at all? The lich didn’t want to judge.
So when Mika replied with a request that was far more simple – not just in terms of how many ways to do it, but also in terms of the amount of effort he’d need to fulfill it – he nodded.
“Well, I don’t have any yet, but… here, I’ll see if I can make you anything.”
Skeletal hands felt around in the deep pockets of his blue robe, before retrieving a small pouch full of seeds. He always kept these around for situations like this one, when someone was in need of something to eat. Even if that someone was himself, in one of the few cases where he actually did need to.
Abraham carefully put one of the seeds in his cupped palm, making sure it didn’t fall through the gaps between his bones. Then, he looked at it intently for a moment.
In a matter of seconds, the seed grew into a shiny red apple.
“Here.” He crouched and offered the fruit. “Is this alright? I have more if you’re really hungry.”
——————————————————————————
Mika stared in awe as the seed grew into an apple. Her grasp was gentle as she accepted it, as though she expected it to collapse back into a seed if she wasn’t careful. When it remained solid, she slipped it into her bag for safekeeping, knowing she needed to make it last. There was a hint of childlike wonder back in her eyes as she looked at Abe again. She smiled gratefully and mouthed a silent ‘Thank you.’
Her brow furrowed in disbelief when he offered more. Then she bit her lip and shook her head in hasty dismissal. She was hungry, but she couldn’t ask for anything else. She already owed him a debt for his generosity, and she didn’t know how to repay him yet. Apples were good, though. Her dog liked apples.
Oh, but — oh no. When Mika ventured out to pickpocket, her dog usually stayed in the alley they’d taken shelter in. She visited him throughout the day to make sure he was safe, but he sometimes got worried and went looking for her. It had been a long time since she’d last checked in on him.
She didn’t know how well it would go for him to meet someone made entirely of bones.
And with perfect timing, she heard a bark from behind her. She spun around to see Cain’s shaggy form emerge from around the alley corner. He paused and stared towards them for a moment. Then his ears perked up in excitement — just as she’d imagined, Cain saw bones, not a person. And in the next second he’d sprinted towards them.
If she could, she would’ve said “NO” to catch his attention and get him to stop — and even after years of silence, her mouth still opened on instinct — but she couldn’t say a word. So she held her breath and quickly raised her hands in front of her in a firm ‘stop’ gesture. Fortunately the alley was long and gave the dog time to respond. He slowed and stopped a few feet from her, his head tilted in confusion.
Mika breathed a sigh of relief and held one hand towards the dog, inviting him to come closer at a calmer pace. He trotted over and pressed his wet nose into her palm in greeting. He stared hungrily at the lich as she turned back around, still curious why a skeleton was present. A low growl rumbled in his throat. Mika rubbed the dog’s neck until he settled down and leaned against her legs.
She gave Abraham an apologetic look. Cain was friendly, but he was also protective and excitable. He could be intimidating when he sprinted full-speed at someone. And this person had just given her food — having her dog knock him over and try biting him wouldn’t be the best way to show gratitude.
