Rairne found a quiet place to sit by herself after her talk with Calico. Everything she had said to the goddess had been honest, but she hadn't fully thought out what she herself was giving up. And now her thoughts were rolling in that direction.

It was true, she didn't have much to give up. She was technically homeless, left to wander the streets by herself. And why was that? Because she had been left alone, bereft of family. The memories came flooding in. Of how her father had cried and cried, after they had come home from the hospital. He hadn't wanted to touch her, but even not touching him, she could feel his sobs wracking his body. Thinking back now, her throat tightened, constricting with his grief, and her own helplessness. She had tried... oh, how she had tried to comfort him!

She remembered how her mother would make tea to soothe nerves in the house when things were unhappy. In her dark world, she only had a vague idea of what she was supposed to do, but her father was worth it, right? So she had fumbled about the kitchen to find the kettle. She didn't have as much trouble filling it with water, but then came the hard part. She'd pushed the stool and the full teapot over to the stove. Her mother had never, ever, let her use the stove. But it couldn't be hard, as mommy hadn't seen to have any trouble.

Little fingers had felt for what she knew must be there to make the click and whoosh of heat on top of the stove. Eventually she succeeded in causing the click and whoosh, and she reached to put the pot of water where the heat came from. It took a couple tries, because she kept misplacing it, and the kettle would tip and slide off whatever it was supposed to be on. Eventually it seemed stable enough to leave, and she'd scrambled down from the stool to wait.

When the whistle announced the water was hot enough for tea, or so Rairne assumed, she scrambled back up on the stool. Her father didn't seem to notice the sound. Maybe he'd fallen asleep by now? But being so young, so small, and so lacking in sight, there was no way Rairne could know to have a potholder or some other guard for her hand. Blindly, she'd reached for the kettle with both hands. The resulting scream had indeed wakened her father, who came rushing. By the time he'd arrived, she'd not only burned both palms, but spilled scalding water over the backs of her hands.

He had been angry, and had yelled at her as he'd wrapped her hands in wet cloths and rushed her back to that hateful place. While they'd tended her hands, she'd heard the nurses whispering spitefully. They thought her daddy had done this on purpose, that he'd hurt her and probably made her mommy die too. And when her daddy had come to visit, she heard one of the doctors take him into the hall and murmur the accusations to him. The man's oily voice was soft, but sharp and sinister. Rairne hated him. Her daddy had left, and never come back for her.

In fury she had flung dishes and bedpans, while the nurses clicked their tongues and said they felt sorry for her, though their tones of voice said they despised her. When her hands had healed, they'd sent her to a house with many children, children without homes or families. It was a horrid place where noone looked after them. It hadn't taken even such an impaired girl as Rairne to escape, and she doubted they'd missed her.

And ever since then she'd been alone. She survived because she had to. But what was there for her, now? Her daddy had left her to those horrid people. Her mommy had left them both. She had eaten trash, dog food, anything she could find that was edible. And now she faced... an end to it all. Arctang offered oblivion, with no more pain and sorrow to ruin her life... only an end like her mommy had had.

Her whole body shuddered, a physical response of rejection to this solution. She still believed he deserved his chance to live again, but a part of her wasn't okay at all with giving up herself so that he could have it. That part of her railed against it, beating proverbeal fists against the idea while howling protest. Her resolve stood firm, but her heart quavered, drowning in more grief and sorrow. It swallowed her up like the darkness that forever had been part of her life, only now the blackness blinded her heart.

It was into this despair she descended, even as she went about and tended to daily necessities. Nothing could be right again. All was lost for her, even as life was going to begin anew for the god within her. it simply was too much for the young mind to deal with all in one lump. Only time could tell if she could wake from her state of sorrow.