Welcome to Gaia! ::

Pendour blinked, a little surprised by the question, but then nodded that she was adopted.

"Not the system," she said. "Mine was all through a private agency. It was mostly worked out before I was even born, and I was able to be with my parents by the time I was a few weeks old."

Her voice settled into the easy rhythm of a conversation she'd had many times, interrupted only by a small squeak when another rabbit decided to jump onto her.

She leaned away from the creatures, still worried about bites, but continued, "It was semi-open, so I was able to exchange cards with my bio mother. I was eventually able to learn her story, which helped with, um, understanding? The details like that depend a lot on the situation, though."

The rabbits were insisting on nestling towards her ribcage. She winced.

"Animals don't usually like me," she said, still staring. "I- I don't-"

She exhaled softly, but then reached forward to scratch the rabbits' ears, following Alya's example. "Okay," she whispered.

Then she turned back to him, gaze softening. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you then," she said. "You don't look so old to me, though. Not too old to find family, at least. To find kids, or friends as close as siblings, or a husband."

The rabbits were cool to the touch, which she knew wasn't how they were supposed to be, but at least they were calm. She started petting their backs.

"I, um, I don't know," she said, voice very quiet again, then sucked in a deep breath and added, "Well. No. If we're being honest, I do want children. I love taking care of things, but, um, I'd never get approved." She was single, disfigured, and visually impaired enough that she couldn't drive. "I could try biological, but-" her face, serene under most circumstances, twisted violently.

"And even if that all worked out, I don't think it would be fair. I even feel guilty about making friends these days. I don't think I could bring a child into my life, since I'm, um," she twisted, showing part of the scar on her back, "Not the kind of person who survives a war."

Maybe someday, Pendour would get to the point where she could tell someone that scars were not the end of the world, but today was not that day.

"I don't fight at all," she said instead, shaking her head with more emphasis than usual. "I would never do something like that. I garden in space, and I try to help people find ways out of the Negaverse, and sometimes I offer help to people who don't want it. Um, who violently don't want it."

She sank back a little against the dirt wall. It made her stomach go all twisted when people thought she was fierce.

"So I got hurt, and my friends got upset. I made more friends, and then I got hurt again, and more people got upset. I'm probably going to get hurt again, or, um, something."

She was silent for a moment.

"I don't want to hurt too many people when it happens."

"More worried-and-sad-upset than angry-upset," said Pendour, her expression softening again as Alya finally sat beside her. "Well, a few people were angry-upset, but they weren't my friends."

She glanced upward, briefly.

"And I don't mind worrying about other people, sometimes, if it means I get to be close to them, so it's something I still need to work on, maybe."

She went quiet for a little. She stroked the bunnies in her lap, then looked behind her to make sure they weren't getting any ideas about burrowing in her hair. It seemed safe, for now.

Slowly, giving Alya time to move away if he wanted to, she leaned over enough that their shoulders were touching. "Thank you for listening," she said, voice almost a whisper. "I do like hugs."

She leaned into his embrace, smiling softly. He was warm, much warmer than thought odd little bunnies. “I’m not going to say no to more hugs,” she murmured.

She wasn’t sure if she could say that she thought standing-up hugs were better. They had a tendency to be shorter and more formal than something like this.

“I would love to be friends with you, Alya,” she said. “Although I’m going to say we should do a blanket fort next time, maybe.” There didn’t need to be dirt. There didn’t need to be animals. It could just be warm and nice and they could have chocolate. That sounded much better for cheering up.

Pendour squinted at the walls of the burrow. “How did you get down here, anyway?”

“You sound like me,” she said with a lighthearted smile when he mentioned falling in the hole. Even before the eye, she’d been terribly clumsy. Now it was worse.

Pendour tried petting the bunnies again, although she still reached out in a way that looked a little like someone squeamish reaching for their dirty clothes. “They’re cold,” she said. “Cute, maybe, but I think that’s what videos are for.”

Then you could see cute things without them trying to crawl on you.

“I have so many blankets,” she said. “We can make a fort in my living room and put on rabbit videos as a reminder, maybe. Or if you’d like to keep your identity secret, I can bring the blankets wherever you want, even if we do end up sitting in the dirt.”

She gave up on the bunnies and closed her eyes, just enjoying being there next to him.

“I don’t think they’re just for childhood,” she said, “and they’re definitely no good for hiding. Anyone in your house will notice the blanket fort in the middle of everything, but they are warm as warm, and good for getting cozy.” She leaned in even closer to him to demonstrate coziness.

She was wearing a soft smile, too.

“Apartments don’t always have to look like Instagram. I think I have at least ten takeout containers scattered around mine right now. Your face is pretty, though. Like Instagram, even.”

She was quiet for a moment, squinting at one of the bunnies.

“Sorry. Is that weird to say?”

“Alya, she said, shaking her head against his shoulder, “I can tell the difference between a person and a youma. Even someone with a beard or something. I’m not that blind.” Her tone was lighthearted, gently teasing in turn.

Then she leaned back a little. “If you’re wondering, I mostly leave youma alone. I want to help them, but they’re all so broken that they turn cruel, or hungry, and I’m trying to be careful.” She sighed, and without really thinking about it, she ran a thumb over the edge of her scars. “Maybe if I’m stronger, or I do more research, I can find something that will get through to them.”

She was silent for a moment before she said, “You know, it is a lot easier to be pretty, but when you look different, it’s easier to tell who is kind and who’s not very nice.” She rearranged herself a little so that she could rest her hand on his shoulder. “You’re kind as kind, and that’s more important than what you look like, or even how smart you are.”

She smiled, and the tease slipped back into her voice, “but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”