Anne Featherstone

"Excuse me, but you’ve got a little something on your face there."

"Well... this is awkward."

"I guess this is the part where we shake hands and say 'nice to meet you', right?"

"I've seen you here before, but I guess I just never had the courage to say hello before."

"I'm so excited to finally meet you in person! I've always dreamed of this."

"Sorry, but, um... am I the only one confused here? Why hasn't anyone else showed up?"

"Watch out!"

"Am I dead? Are you an angel?"

"Okay, okay, listen. I miiiiight have had a little too much, and I miiight need someone to help me get home. You look trustworthy, so let's go."

"I'm sorry--please, can you help me?"

"I look forward to working with you."

"I look forward to serving you."

"Stay still! I'm trying to stop the bleeding!"

"I'm not trying to be nosy or anything, but... I've been seeing you here a lot lately, always by yourself. I just wanted to say, if you have anything on your mind, I'd listen."

"Um, I know you don't know me, but I think what you did back there was very brave."

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nalanitheloststar

mentius

little-lost-lad

-glances over at her companion- -nonchalantly- A vicious fight. A man tried to carry me off and I had to fight back. He left his mark on me, but you should see his bruises. He learned not to mess with me after that.

Anne looked up and quickly arranged her hair back over the yellowing bruises around her ear. “It’s nothing, it will go away,” she responded carelessly. “It doesn’t even hurt or anything.” She didn’t meet Susan’s gaze.

The center of town was a hive of activity and conversation. Anne was getting well-versed in Narnian creed and custom by claiming her spot at the village fountain with a kind eye and a keen ear. The ear was keener than the eye was kind, but she could fool anybody for five minutes. There was the child last week who informed her about the Lion who watches over the town and comes to visit on special occasions (Anne wasn't sure she could support a guardian who only came when there was a party on), and the woman on Tuesday who offered her lunch with her family. Anne declined that offer; she didn't need to form any attachments or owe anyone anything quite so early on. That wasn't her style.

Today Anne found a bench and sat cross-legged, inspecting her nails disinterestedly, while keeping one eye on a group of 6 year olds playing in the street. Their mothers looked on kindly from a market stall close by.

"I'm High King Peter and you can be the White Witch." One boy pulled a long stick from his leather belt.

His little sister crossed her arms. "I don't want to be the Witch! I'm Queen Lucy with my magic cordial. I heal all the sick people."

"Then who am I supposed to kill if nobody is the White Witch?" The boy swung his stick and knocked himself in the head.

Tripping over her dress, Anne scrambled up the craggy hill. There was a war on, Susan had said, please stay within the castle walls. Not a chance. There would be no caging this girl in, and especially not in a dress. She had to find someone to make her a pair of pants. Did they have pants here? Not for girls, surely, but she could fix that.

Cresting the hill, Anne looked back to make sure no one had seen her scale the wall at Cair. It wouldn't have been very attractive if they had. Ahead of her was a short rocky outcrop before a dense forest. A small creek snaked through the trees. If she followed that, she couldn't possibly get lost. A day or two, maybe they would miss her, but not long enough to worry anyone. She wanted them to be confused, not concerned. Nobody would tell her what to do.

You're ridiculous, Anne, a voice in her head told her. You're acting like a child. You're bitter, and you're looking for attention. Get over yourself. She wasn't sure where this voice came from, but it spoke to her occasionally. It wasn't her's, and it definitely wasn't her mother's. It was just . . . there.