Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena

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Vulnerable
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Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 2, 2011 21:27:44 GMT -5

Post by Vulnerable on Apr 2, 2011 21:27:44 GMT -5

I've got a frostbite in my frontal lobe
I've got no empathy, no sensitivity

Warmth was all he could feel in this precious moment as he walked down the side walk as he usually would on a sunny day. It wasn't warm outside, but there was a warmness on his inside that made him feel as if it was sunny. Was it a feeling of happiness or something of that sort? It was a mystery. But, it did feel like true, pure happiness. A feeling that he usually didn't get without sensing some sort of pain from someone else. What had caused him to become so happy? It may not have shown on his face, but it was there. It had a bit of transparency, it did not show anywhere. It hid like a shadow under a table, behind the table sheets and unable to be seen unless you looked under. In this case, there was nothing to look under. He was filled with it and it didn't disappear. For some reason, he diddn't like the feeling. It was out of the blue and completely random. There was no fun involved with the random, obscure amount of happiness that he had. He hadn't hurt anyone, so what was the point in having happiness if there wasn't any pain around? Nothing to watch, nothing to have a point for. It didn't have a point, and Ezra had a distaste for things without points. He missed the blankness in the short time that he had the feeling of happiness surrounding him, he missed the feeling of being void of any emotion at all. He did not want this ray of sunlight beaming down into him and his core, he could not let him feel this way. His thinking eventually drove it away. The happiness vanished, and for that brief moment, he missed what he didn't like. He snapped back to his senses quickly, though. His rubbed both of his fingers across the sides of his temple, tuning out any feeling of happiness that could come back. His eyes scoured the path in front of him and around the path of the sidewalk, watching the people. Watching them talk, watching them walk, watching them stop to stare.

No one seemed frail enough for him to be talking to them, did they? Oh, how he missed the moments where almost everyone he knew were frail in some way. Some of the words they said when they found out that he was a liar, a schemer, an evil person, and a sadist.. They all rung through his head and made him feel like himself. Like he was doing something right, not like he was doing something wrong. His sense of morality was a bit odd, wasn't it? Knowing that what he did was wrong, but recognizing it as something good because it made him happy and made others miserable. He was the grim reaper of emotion, in every sense of the word. Still, there were some exceptions to the rule that he always hurt people. 'Adel,' He thought, the name making him stop in his tracks and instantaneously think about his life and what he done. It was the one thing he wondered about, the one person besides his family that he had the capacity to like. The one that kept coming back for more, even though he knew Ezra was always up to tricks and schemes to hurt him. Why did he follow him around like a lost puppy? Why did he keep coming back to Ezra? Ezra, at one time considered this to be a pathetic act. But, Adel truly loved Ezra. Ezra never felt anything for him, until he was already gone, out of his life. Or, he thought he was. Adel still came back for him every once and a while, but Ezra treated him with a gentle stature compared to his other victims. He let him off easy every time that he kept crawling back to him. And he was the only one that he had ever felt bad about hurting, the only one that he still truly cared for. Ezra wondered if he should ever try to care about Adel, ever try to have a real relationship with him. But, he didn't think that it would work. Ezra was too sadistic, too cruel, for Adel.

The boy had a cracked heart in a thousand places. He was too weak to be in a relationship after what Ezra had done to him. He was a victim of the highest degree, a person that he hurt so bad that he may never recover from what he did. Ezra cheated over ten times, planning everything out thoroughly. After he broke up with him, Adel would slowly learn about everyone that Ezra had cheated on him with. Ezra would tell him, straight up, why he wasn't good enough when he came back to ask him. He gave him every flaw about why he could never love Adel, why he didn't ever really like him, why he stayed in a relationship with him out of pity. It was cruel enough to do everything in that small list at that point, but it only got worse. Adel would come back, because he still loved Ezra. Ezra would continuously get in and out of relationships with Adel just to hurt him and just because he knew that Adel, or thought that, was stupid enough to want to come back, stupid enough to believe that Ezra could change. And he would just crush his heart again. But, what had really happened was Ezra realized that love was blind. Adel wasn't stupid by any means. If anything, he was a bit smarter than the great Ezra himself. He was a top student in District 8's school, and was one of the most intelligent people that you could ever have met. That's what threw Ezra off. He was smart, but he kept coming back. Did he somehow now have enough sense to stop loving him? The question of if you ever could get rid of love lingered in his body, in his mind, and made him feel bad about what happened, for once in his life. The realization had left him unchanged, though, and he continued on to victimize others. But, he never victimized Adel after that. He couldn't. He didn't have the willpower, for Ezra, deep down inside under his cruel interior and exterior, there was a person down there that loved Adel just as much as Adel loved Ezra. Could Adel see this person? Is that what he was trying to dig out of Ezra? The mission would never be accomplished. Nothing could make Ezra a good person, could it? No, nothing could. He thought about that long and hard after he hurt him, after he crushed his spirit and soul and declared that he was never able to become the person that Adel wanted him to become. He couldn't change himself for another person's sake just because Adel wanted Ezra to love him.

Sad, but true. Finally, Ezra looked around and noticed something. He was on the sidewalk, just standing there for the past five minutes and not paying attention to the world around him. He was still immobile up until this point, and just standing and looking around. All of it, the idea of it, it made him stop in his tracks. Precious time wasted to look for another victim, but it all made him question whether he wanted to continue doing this. Everyone had that shred of innocence that came out now and again. It was Ezra's turn for this to happen, and you could see it all over his body. His body language, his facial expressions. Deep thinking is what he would call it. Metaphorical thinking, thinking about life and how he could change it. Thinking about things that could possibly happen if he were to become this great guy, even if he knew he could never do that. It was just too fun, too amazing to stop himself from inflicting pain on others. But, if it was all that fun and nice for Ezra to do it, why would he sit around and contemplate why he was doing it? Why would he sit around all day and think about one boy, one person's life that he had ruined? 'Is this what love feels like?' Love, the thought made goosebumps form all across his body. He could never experience love. Only love for his family and for himself. But, those were different kinds of love. What was Adel? What was that feeling? It confused him. Confusion was also a new feeling. He always knew what he was going to do, how he was going to deal with it. But he was unprepared for these two new emotions invading his system and making him seem like a whole other person in the entire moment that he stood still. Even in the wind, he didn't waver. He was as solid as a stone statue. That confusion hurt him, it hurt him deep. Like a luna moth's cocoon burying deep into the ground, the hint of love and confusion buried deep into his skin and into his heart. They stood did not waver either. They stayed, and stayed, and after all of that thinking, all of that complying with his mind... He could not drive away the feeling.

"I'm sorry, Adel," He let out, a little whimper soon following after he said those few words that managed to come out of his mouth in those moments that he was frozen like ice. He did not let out any words after that and just stood there. For once, he was the frail one. He was the victim of his own emotions. And they had managed to sabotage him. For once, he knew what it was to feel awful. He knew what it was to feel like he loved someone, he knew what it was like to have his heart ripped away from him and having a hole where his heart used to be. A hole of sadness, of delusion, of confusion, and of love, all mixed in a sweltering pot. It truly didn't feel good. It felt as if you had eaten acid, and slowly waited for it to melt everything on your inside. Like something was eating at you from the inside and was trying to break free from its prison, like you were being asphyxiated by your own words and your own emotion. Truly, it was horror incarnated in its own sick way. A step forward was taken with his shaky legs, that feeling threatening to pull him under and subduing him into a depressing, less mean version of himself with actual feeling. He would not let that happened. Slowly, but surely, he was back on pace, going back down the sidewalk, looking for somewhere to sit so that he could calm himself. He could not find such a seat though, which led him to eventually just sit on the side of the walkway, against the cement, looking at the broken edges of the white shirt that he had on. He never finished this shirt, but he still had it on. Quietly, he'd try and forget about everything he just thought about. He'd try to get rid of the encounter with himself by thinking of the one thing that distracted him, weaving. But he didn't have the supplies to weave. He just sat and thought about it for a while. 'Life is about weaving. It is all about weaving,' He chanted in his mind, thinking about it. Weaving was the only reason he was here. It was the only reason he was alive. It was made for him. It was his everything.

Word Count ; 1956

Last Edit: Apr 2, 2011 22:25:56 GMT -5 by Vulnerable

"Bullets for bitches?"

In violent times, you shouldn't have to sell your soul.
In black and white, they really really ought to know.
They really ought to know.

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Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 3, 2011 0:20:00 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Apr 3, 2011 0:20:00 GMT -5

I settle down
a twisted up frown
disguised as a smile, well
you would have never known

Dark brown eyes flitted open and closed. The awkward figure laid there, tightly curled into a ball and holding her arms to keep warm. A shiver bounced around her torso and through her limbs, shaking almost every part of her body. In the shadow of the midday light, hidden silently in a corner behind one of the shops, Ravena opened her eyes once again and kept them that way. There was dirt below her and cold stone to rest her head against, but the cold was always what got to her. Winter had faded away and all signs were somewhat gone, but the frigid air still lingered, as if taunting the girl that it probably affected most. To her, the temperature was not a simple inconvenience, but a matter of sleep, comfort, and life.

And it was such a bitch to her.

Circling her dark eyes were a pair of bags to go with the lack of sleep, and directly below her right eye a smudge of dirt crossed her cheek and fell all the way to her chin where she had smudged it unknowingly in her "sleep."

Snap snap.

A small noise to the left of her sent the girl springing up from her corner, cautious in a millisecond of the intruder of her temporary home. The sudden lurch sent her sideways, her heart racing and her mind unable to keep herself standing straight. She searched for stability in a stray garbage can to the right of her, but it tumbled over with the force of her movement and she fell to her stomach, her hands sprawled out in front of her as her face scraped the dirt.

"Damn it all to hell." The exclamation of pain was not an exclamation at all, but rather an irritated whisper that could be heard by nobody but herself.

Time to go now..

As much as Ravena Kavieria tried to stay away from the general public and their annoying you-obviously-need-help looks, situations like these always seemed to pop up and slap her in the face.

Literally.

Tipping over precariously, the not-so-stable garbage can landed sideways, slamming into another to the side of it.

And the one to the side of that one, and another, and another, making a hell of a lot of noise in the process. Every slam sent her a step backwards, fearfully swinging her head from side to side, searching for any movement, any sign of anybody coming to blame her and hurt her. Footsteps sounded from the building to the left of her, so she ran for it. She flung herself wildly around the corner and onto the pavement, her torn-up, ragged shoes slapping against the ground in an incomprehensible surge of something that didn't quite add up to fear. She wasn't just afraid, she was excited. Energized. She was on her toes and ready for anything, and the feeling brought her strength.

Her tattered brown shoes slowed down only a minute later as she slowed to a jog, far enough away from the situation to be safe. She hadn't taken anything, but she had a reputation for it. She was that girl on the block who needed a shower, that one who stole everything in sight. The one who couldn't be trusted, who didn't deserve anything. She was a thief, and nobody wanted to help her.

Not that she blamed them or anything. They were exactly right, and she loved it.

Slowing to a stop, her stomach growled angrily at her. That feeling of excitement was still obvious in the racing of her blood and the pounding of her heart, but in seconds it slowly began to slow as well. All was calm, and so she allowed herself to search around for any telltale sign of a merchant on the street or a shop to slip into. None were around - she had run away from most of the main shops - but a figure sat several feet away from her, sulking or whatever he was actually doing.

Raising her eyebrows slightly, Ravena grinned and trotted over to him, plopping onto the ground directly next to him.

"Got any food?"

I had it all but not what I wanted
'cause hope for me was a place uncharted
and overgrown

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Last Edit: Apr 8, 2011 15:48:55 GMT -5 by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]

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Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 4, 2011 14:51:43 GMT -5

Post by Vulnerable on Apr 4, 2011 14:51:43 GMT -5

I've got a frostbite in my frontal lobe
I've got no empathy, no sensitivity

Food? Someone had asked for food. Ezra turned his head to look at Ravena as she sat beside him. He gave her a misconstrued face like she was a psycho of some sort, even if she was only looking for food. But still, who actually had enough food to give food to people who needed it here? Nearly no one had that much food. And surely, Ezra had no food on him to give to the girl that asked for it. But, it was not like he was going to give this girl any of the food that he had, if he had it, anyway. He was also quite poor. The only difference between him being extremely poor and moderately poor was the fact that he at least had a roof over his head. People like this didn't look like they had a shelter of some sort. They were practically the hobos of District Eight, weren't they? His initial reaction to the girl was to kind of go off on her. Tell her that he had no food on him and that she was just going to have to work for her own food. But, then there was that sense of frailty that she had among her. The one that made him like to manipulate people, when people had a frail side. It was easy to hurt someone who could be bended so easily and melded into something else like clay. Would he do what he would always do with people like this? Would he somehow hurt her in the end, if she had allowed such a damage to proceed. Even he didn't know what he was going to do. A quick thought came to his mind as he got up from the sidewalk and examined the girl. Ezra nodded, still indecisive. "I don't have any with me, but if you can walk a couple of blocks, I can give you half of a loaf of bread? It's not the best bread in the world, but if you're looking for food," Ezra's voice trails off and he looked down the sidewalk with a blank expression.

Thinking about the boy that loved him had caused him to do this to himself. To try and think about if he should still trick people, to see if he should still see that soulless look in their eyes as every hint of emotion is destroyed and gone. Until the spark in their eyes vanishes and the flames finally subside. But, there was something different in him now. It was not an instantaneous change, but it was something that he wanted to try. It may not have been a nice change for him as it probably wouldn't make him as happy as he was when he hurt people. But, it would be best for others, at least. Still, when has he ever cared about other peoples' feelings? Never. Scratching the back of his head, he took a step down the way to where his home was and where that half a loaf of bread awaited Ravena if she wanted it. He had made his decision. He was going to be nice, for once in his lifetime. He wondered if the family he had would be surprised if they knew he was going to be nice. They were some of the people that knew about his habit to be a bit of an evil person, but unlike others, they shrugged it off and said it was none of their business. Or, his father did. His sister sometimes shrugged it off. But every once in a while, she would scold her younger brother. She was somewhat of a polar opposite of him. She did manipulate people, but she did not do it for evil purposes. She didn't do it for enjoyment or anything of the sort as she was not a sadist like Ezra, doing it for things like food and sometimes even the occasional textile for Ezra. Because of this, though, they were close friends. And quite possibly, the only friend that Ezra would ever have in his life time if he kept up this mad behavior towards others. He waved his hand to signal the girl to follow him up the sidewalk, so that they could get to his home as quickly as they could. She was hungry, after all.

Word Count; 725[/size]

"Bullets for bitches?"

In violent times, you shouldn't have to sell your soul.
In black and white, they really really ought to know.
They really ought to know.

Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]
Retired Staff

6,346 POSTS
Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Nov 17, 2023 15:15:56 GMT -5

cozy, queer af

Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 5, 2011 1:27:49 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Apr 5, 2011 1:27:49 GMT -5

You'd make your way in
I'd resist you just like this

Not belonging in normal every-day society had become the norm for the dirt-covered girl. Even the people of District Eight - people that, compared to the Capitolites, seemed like pure angels of wisdom and love and all of that other crappy nonexistant junk - frowned upon her very existence, like she wasn't just as much a part of it as they were. They were all poor or generally middle-class, so why did they feel the need to stare down at her? Why was she the object of contemptuous glares every single waking day of her life? The first glance that Ezra gave her as she sat down seemed to mimick what every other expression looked like, resounding in just another face. What, you think I'm some kind of dirt vagrant? (Okay, she was..) She knew the story, she knew what they were all thinking. None of them wanted to say anything, but they were thinking it. She isn't worth helping.

Then again, self-pity didn't really work for the girl who acted like the President of Panem when she was really the lowest of the low. If she didn't have pride in herself, she had nothing but empty words, cold nights, and little hope for the future. Except Ravena would not allow herself to hope for anything. She wasn't a soul to settle on hope and live for it, but rather enjoyed procrastinating and wasting the present time. Her life consisted of eating, drinking, and sleeping, and beyond that there was nothing to worry about. There was little to think about or dream about, and she would tell herself that the latter was just fine. People would crush her hopes, anyways. She could go to work in the future, but she had never learned to weave or anything of that sort. Who would ever give her a job? Really, there was no use in dreaming about the future. None of it mattered in the face of surviving another cold night or another hungry day.

Though what exactly was she surviving for?

"I don't have any with me, but if you can walk a couple of blocks, I can give you half of a loaf of bread? It's not the best bread in the world, but if you're looking for food."

The ever-present grin stood firmly on Ravena's face, revealing her unclean teeth and making her chapped lips and sunken face even more obvious than before. Smiles on her weren't appealing or clean, but still it was a sign of kindness. She meant well, didn't she? Sure, she was being a bother, but did she hate the guy? Not really. He at least seemed okay, even if the only thing she knew about him was his name. It was difficult not to know people in District Eight - even if she spent the great majority of her time avoiding them.

Shrugging ever-so-slightly, Ravena nodded her head weakly and pushed herself up from the worn pavement. She was about to make a gesture to dust herself off before she realized that the action was pointless anyways, so her arms dropped limply by her sides until she started fidgeting with her hands a few moments later.

"Thank you for this, really. I'm just.. well, really really hungry. I haven't had much in days, and- " She stopped talking suddenly, unable to finish the rest of her sentence. Saying it aloud would only confirm what she didn't even like admitting to herself. Fear was a weak emotion.

I'm afraid that I'm going to die.

Shaking her head quickly, she pushed onward in the direction that he indicated, ridding the thought out of her mind completely. Fear was weak, and Ravena would never allow herself to be anything but strong. Strength and pride were the only things keeping her sane, and she could not give them up. The day she started fully doubting herself would be the day that she would die.

Whatever it was that she was living for.

You can't tell me to feel
The truth never set me free
So I did it myself

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Last Edit: Apr 5, 2011 1:28:40 GMT -5 by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]

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Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 6, 2011 17:49:21 GMT -5

Post by Vulnerable on Apr 6, 2011 17:49:21 GMT -5

I've got a frostbite in my frontal lobe
I've got no empathy, no sensitivity

Another new feeling had managed to lump up into his heart and months and years of being the manipulative, sadistic bastard that he usually is. Pity. Pity was a feeling that hadn't had before either and it was one that slithered around every crevice in his body. It presented itself like a snake, quiet and unexpected and not a feeling that Ezra ever wanted. But, the girl was poor and dirty. She looked like she'd never taken a shower and like she had never eaten before. Usually, for Ezra, he wouldn't have this kind of sadness for someone else. For himself? Maybe a little, but not this much pouring out. But here he was, about to give food to this poor girl by walking home with her and hoping that that half loaf of bread wasn't eaten by the family by now. The charm in his voice had drained away when he spoke, like water going down into a sink, "I'm Ezra, by the way." He no longer had the sound of a person with an accent. He just had a normal voice, like anyone else would have. His voice was what made him stand out from certain other people, it's what garnered him his attention from others. To not use it was a sign he wasn't just playing around witht his girl. He was actually going to give her the bread. He didn't turn around to look at her while he spoke, either. He just continued walking, knowing that soon they would be at his home.

Despite introducing himself, he didn't ask the other girl's name. He would probably never see her again after this, since she looked like a person that roamed around District 8 for food and scavenged through trash just to look for things she needed. Ezra used to do that. Not to the extent that this girl did, but to an extent where he would look for extra food. It was illegal, yes, but it was also good to have some food that you could actually eat instead of sitting around hungry and dying. It was the best shot anyone had to keep on living in District Eight. This small connection between everyone in District Eight, meant that they knew each other in a metaphorical way. Almost anyone who lived here had known the feeling of hunger, even if only a couple of them ever went days without eating. The most that Ezra ever went through without eating was one or two. But, to go days without eating? It seemed tiresome. Ezra wondered how this girl could even walk with him to his house without being weak, though she did seem a bit frail. Frail. A conflict came to the front row in his mind, causing him to think about it all over again. Why was he doing this? Why was he being nice to this girl? There was no reason for it, but he wanted to be nice for once. He was trying to fix himself, fix his life, even though he knew he would probably give up after a week of trying. The monster that he became was a ruthless one, and one that would never give up trying to come back and invade Ezra's body all over again. It was cruel, hurtful. Ezra loved it, though. That love is what made those feelings stay, the love of sadism. But, for now, it could not touch him or harm him. The feeling wouldn't return until he allowed them back into the gates made of rusted metal, into the town of broken buildings and corpses.

For a moment, Ezra looks back at the dirty girl and thinks for a moment, and turning back to the path in front of him. He still couldn't believe that that feeling of pity could linger in for so long and not go away. Ezra made a left up the sidewalk and stopped as soon as he could see a small, one story house that seemed a little more tattered, compared to some of the other buildings that were on this street. "There's my house. I'll be back," Ezra quickly went inside to grab the half loaf of bread and also took something from his closet, coming back outside with it. Ezra draped the completely white shirt around her, and handed her the half loaf of bread. "There. The bread is a little old, might have an ant or two crawling on it. Just, enjoy it," Ezra urged, almost hurting from having to be nice, to have to get used to something he wasn't used to.

Word Count; 769

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"Bullets for bitches?"

In violent times, you shouldn't have to sell your soul.
In black and white, they really really ought to know.
They really ought to know.

Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]
Retired Staff

6,346 POSTS
Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Nov 17, 2023 15:15:56 GMT -5

cozy, queer af

Frostbite in the Frontal Lobe // Ravena Apr 8, 2011 1:48:37 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Apr 8, 2011 1:48:37 GMT -5

You can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out a little more

Oh, the joy of the awkward silence brought on by talking with a complete stranger. Ravena knew it well enough, but she was never exactly sure who it was that caused the uncomfortable quiet. Was it her own obvious inability to talk? No, no, that didn't make any sense. It wasn't quite that she couldn't talk.. but what was it, really? She could twist and turn her words around all she wanted to get whatever it was that she needed. Words were foolish, petty little things, meaning nothing and saying little about anybody. Their manner of speaking, their word choice, their oh-so-convincing persuasions; it could all be faked. People were fickle that way, always picking and choosing their words carefully before actually saying them, or else blurting everything out without a filter or care. Nothing was ever clean or real or truly good. Nothing.

"I'm Ezra, by the way." A startling difference in the tone and sound of his voice surprised her slightly. At first she threw it to the idea that his voice was simply thrown off for a moment, but then an unavoidable paranoid idea struck her. It seemed less forced than before, almost as if he had been putting on some sort of silly show only a moment ago, but now for whatever reason he surrendered the pointless voice and settled on something more natural. But who was she to judge? He had said all of one sentence to her. She had no clue, really. She had no clue who he was or what he was like, but he was helping her. That had to count for something, right? Most people, even on the best of days, chose to shove her aside when she asked for help. The excuses always seemed to be the same. "I don't have any food with me," or the amazingly blunt, "Go get a job or something." This guy didn't have anything with him, and he was actually walking with her to get food? It was a freaking miracle.

Miracles don't exist, honey. Miracles don't exist.

That gnawing thought in the back of her mind played and replayed itself over and over again as she walked. Every step she took seemed to be towards some sort of danger, even if she knew that she was being driven by stupid, unwavering caution. Everything was about habit and past horrors, and for once the thought bothered her. Ravena wanted to rid herself, just for a little while, of the worry and the cautious actions. There was no point in any of it, especially with a person who so clearly was just trying to help. Evil existed in everyone. It was simply a question of when that evil would manifest itself in actions and words, and Ravena never stood around waiting for it. Instead she always chose to get the hell out the minute even before she needed to, and it was bothersome. It always proved to be safe, but she didn't want to deal with it right then.

Several silent, awkward blocks away, and they were finally there. "There's my house. I'll be back," Ezra said, leaving Ravena to stare enviously at the structure. A home complete with walls and a roof, it wasn't much better than the house that she had grown up in. It looked old and unkempt, but a home was a home. It was a ridiculous thing to be jealous of every person who had a home in District Eight, but secretly Ravena scorned them. They had something that she probably couldn't lie and steal and manipulate her way into.

Shoving the thought deeply into her mind to lock it away, her tired eyes settled uneasily on Ezra as he passed through the door again, quickly draping something over her shoulders and handing her the bread.

"There. The bread is a little old, might have an ant or two crawling on it. Just, enjoy it," he forced out. His hurried actions and forced words confused her, and she stood there dumbstruck for a second before shaking her head and speaking hesitantly.

"Uh, what's the matter? And what's this?" she stopped, pulling the cloth from around her shoulders. A tiny gasp emitted with a sharp intake of breath, and in a hurried rush she brought the clean cloth to her face, despite knowing that she would only ruin the perfect white color.

"It's soft! And so clean." She closed her eyes and left the cloth resting against the left side of her face. Thin fingers gripped the shirt tightly, unwilling to let it go just in case he was actually kidding. Her other hand grasped the half loaf of bread, and it was this new realization that sent her eyes popping open. Pieces of bread were almost instantaneously shoved into her mouth. Days without eating enhanced the taste of the old bread considerably, though she didn't stop to taste it. Piece after piece was torn off of the half and each was chewed and immediately swallowed. She ate like a wild animal in her drive to fill her stomach, and it was only when the last few crumbs sat in her hand that she stopped. She licked the last few bits from her hand - dirt and all - before she realized that Ezra was still standing there.

"I'm Ravena," she said matter-of-factly.

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