Fluffesu
Trying not to cry was hard. It was very hard. Of course, Volkarosh had known that, but when she'd been in Zena, it had been a little easier. Life and death helped one not cry, well, not so much. Tears flowed, feelings hurt, but one simply had to keep moving. That was one of the lessons she'd learned there.
Here, however, without the threat of icy cold or death hanging over her, she could barely resist the frustrated misery that pricked at her eyes. She hugged her bag to her, feeling its far-lessened contents against her chest. What could she buy with this? What was the point? This had been supposed to be a pleasant day - a treat she could get on her own - and instead it was terrible.
The wind boy's voice broke her free from her misery and struggles. She looked at him suspiciously for a moment, managing for the moment to tamp her tears down. She wiped her too-dark eyes to rid them of stray tears. "No." she said, honestly. "I can't find them..."
