Wallace
She grazed. She didn't really care to but that is what her body told her to do, and so she grazed. Beneath a sun, even, so that she could be easily found when they got hungry again. The lavender-splashed twins were still near enough to catch on the occasional breeze, but often seemed so completely consumed in each other. She'd had a twin once.. She could understand.
"Wallace."
Her name on a stranger's tongue had her lifting her head and turning. It hadn't startled her this time, though she wasn't sure why, but his color so similar to the childrens' purple did and she flinched from it. Brown eyes glanced away, logging this in her mind, coming to terms with it before she turned back to him again.
She shifted her hips so that she faced him squarely, sliding the scars of intricate lace out of obvious view. He'd sounded like he knew her though, and she immediately thought of Reilly and his familiarity with her when he had been a stranger to her. The large Irishman had known her, had been there when she was found and she'd been too incoherent to remember him. Perhaps this stranger, too, had been there. Perhaps he already knew how useless it was to hide the marks from him.
I don't remember you, she said flatly, hollow and quiet. Not an accusation, but an explanation. Perhaps an apology of some kind, but not likely. If he'd been there when she was found after her.. ordeal, then she hadn't been lucid enough to recognize him. Surely she would have remembered that color, shades different but still purpled.
She noticed blood at his shoulder, just a little from a small cut, but her eyes didn't settle on it long. That was nothing. Dull, brown gaze wandered back to his. If he was here to see how she was doing, she was fine. See? So he could leave free of guilt for not coming sooner.
She was fine.
