Old Blood

Shadow

Ms. Grimshaw noticed the subtle change in the girl's expression. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she spoke up.

"You have a name, girl?" she asked, her tone slightly assertive.

Arthur's eyes flickered towards the little girl, his gaze silently encouraging her to answer Grimshaw's question.

The girl's words, spoken with caution, hung in the air for a moment. There was a hint of vulnerability in her voice as she admitted, "I can't remember."

The girl's eyes shifted, and a hint of sadness flickered across her expression. The reminder that she couldn't even recall her own name seemed to bring an extra layer of melancholy to her already vulnerable state.

Ms. Grimshaw's voice dropped to a softer tone as she gently asked, "You can't remember your own name, dear?" Her expression held a mix of concern and confusion as she gently tried to coax an answer from the girl.

Arthur attempted to speak up, but Ms. Grimshaw cut him off, her voice firm but empathetic.

"How about we give you a name then?" she offered. Her eyes met the girl's, a hint of kindness in her expression as she suggested a solution to her memory loss.

Ms. Grimshaw nodded, stating the obvious practicalities.

"Well," she began, her voice matter-of-fact, "you need a name to address you by, not just 'dear' or 'girl.'" Her tone held a mix of practicality and a hint of sympathy.

The girl gazed at Ms. Grimshaw, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Her voice was soft as she repeated, "A name?" The concept of having a name, something to be referred to by, was a foreign and somewhat overwhelming thought for her in her current state.

Ms. Grimshaw nodded, her expression softening.

"Yes, a name," she confirmed gently. "Something for us to call you by. It's important to have a name, don't you think?"

The girl paused, contemplating Ms. Grimshaw's words. She tried to process the concept of being given a brand new name, one that would be the foundation of her identity in this new environment.

Ms. Grimshaw abruptly changed the subject, breaking the girl's train of thought.

"Anyways," she said, her voice gently guiding the conversation along. "Are you hungry?"

The question lingered in the air, shifting the focus from the topic of identity to a more basic necessity.

The girl shook her head slightly, a hint of hesitation in her movement. It was an obvious sign of her uncertainty and wariness, even about something as basic as expressing her hunger.

Ms. Grimshaw was surprised by the girl's gesture, her eyes widening slightly as the girl shook her head in response to the question about being hungry.

"Are you sure?" she repeated, her tone holding a hint of disbelief. It seemed she expected the girl to be hungry after such an ordeal.

"Well, I'll get you some food in case you're hungry..." she said, before leaving the tent to presumably fetch some food.

Arthur and the girl were left alone in the tent, each lost in their own thoughts. The momentary silence seemed to amplify the girl's sense of vulnerability and uncertainty about her situation.

Arthur's voice broke the silence, his tone soft as he inquired about her injury, "So your wound ain't hurtin' too much, right?"

The girl looked at him, her expression still guarded, but she shook her head, indicating that the wound was tolerable for now.