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[Paytience]

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"Port!" Pay called out quickly and watched as a head of shaggy red turned quickly in the direction she had called out. Green eyes focused on the horizon line, watching as the dolphin jumped in and out of the water. A toothy grin on his face, Christopher turned back around to face his Aunt.

They'd been combing the salt laden waves since dawn. With her firm hands behind his she had showed him how to rig the mast and even man the oars in the rowboat when they neared the edges of the Seaport. Eager as much for the company as he was to learn, Christopher tirelessly worked along side her. Small hands did their best to mimic her well practiced movements, right down to her pauses mid sentence to stare at him.

It wasn't so long ago really that she had no idea he existed.. that Arahim existed. And now, with the feel of her brother's life essence just out of her peripheral reach she wondered if this was some dream she was destined to wake up from. Had Chris felt it too? It was those thoughts causing the pause. And with every intake of breath she would stare into those tiny green eyes. None of them were really good at discussing what criss crossed their thoughts. They'd never had to.

She got the distinct impression Arahim was poised on the precipice of something. Something no one but himself could deal with. Quietly she slapped a lid on those thoughts and on the ice cold edge of darkness she felt lining their future.

"Christopher, did your Dad ever teach you to tie knots?"

She watched as his little head bobbed up and down emphatically and beckoned him to her. Pulling a strong end of rope towards them she handed it over, keeping a hold higher up. When the knot was good and tight she had him help coax the boat into harbor.

Quietly they disembarked.

"I don't want to go home Aunt Pay. Not Yet."

Somberly she stared at her nephew. He had echoed what her own heart had been screaming for days.

"How about we go everywhere BUT there?"

[Paytience]

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“My Dad used to take me here lots.” It was said matter of factly. Quiet and accurate the weight of the statement and the implications of the words “used to” lay heavy in the air between them. She gave him a half smile then, the silent cord filling in the crevices of emotion neither of them would speak.

Placing a hand on his small but fate broadened shoulders, she dug in gently with her fingers before they stepped forward. Cobwebbed walls of hard granite surrounded them. Ancient steps threatening to break beneath the weight of an ill placed boot kept their place but seemed as if to growl from the use. Up and over Christopher followed his Aunt Pay as they ascended the steps of the Britain Crossroads.

With a simple nod Paytience met the eyes of the healers and birthing women stationed in the complex. She's been here once before herself. And though they did not recognize her for that trip, they recognized her for what she was, one of them. It was minute bonding, but it tethered her and Christopher to something bigger than themselves. Maybe it was that knowledge that kept her from turning tail and running as she so often wanted to do these days.

Motioning to a set of cots at the end of the walkway, Pay placed her pack on the ground and sat carefully on the woolen bedspread. Placing her nephew in front of her she looked him in the eyes.

“We're gonna bunk here tonight Kiddo.”

He nodded solemnly. If it was one place they were safe, sound and home; it was with each other.

Taking his own little pack she set it beside hers. Lifting a flap she pulled out two apples and handed one over. She watched a flash of hunger light his green eyes as he giggled up and took a bite much bigger than he was. Smiling she mimicked the motion sending him hurling into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Mentally she made a notation on an invisible note board. Hope 3. The fact that sorrow had a notation of 23 wasn't lost on her, but for now she would take what she could get.

[Paytience]

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Soft leather boots slipped soundlessly across the stones. Fingers stretched outright, Pay leaned down and in a sudden whirl of motion latched them onto tiny sides still tucked firmly into wool covers. Giggles filmed with sleep mixed and mingled in a cathartic melodic twist of early morning music.

"Wake up, Kiddo." Sliding beside him, Pay rested her elbows on her knees and linked her hands together. Leaning into her nephew she pushed slightly. "Got a full day ahead of us!"

"What are we doing?" Rubbing the crusty particulars from his eyes, Christopher blinked a few times and turned to look up into her dark eyes.

"Goin' Exploring!"

His green eyes deepend then and locked with hers. A slight nod from his tiny head gave inkling that he understood. Quietly, Christopher put his little boots on and slipped his shirt over his head. Quietly, Pay picked up the sacks and with her free hand pulled at the band holding in her jet black hair letting it fall freely down her shoulders. And quietly, hand in hand, they walked down the steps without another word being spoken.

Was it bad for you, Pay?

The air, heavy and laden with the ghost of summers past wound it self around the pale ankh nestled against her chest. Time seemed to all but exit leaving two children holding tightly to one another's grip.

Firmly snapping back to the present she finally answered. Her voice barely a whisper.

"It's bad now..."

[Paytience]

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Skara

Britian

Vesper

Eyes rolled up in a head slung to the side, back curled against the cold damp stones of the tailor shop. Her arm draped across his shoulder she applied a gentle pressure guiding him across the entangled limbs. Words trickled forth like colors of a brush. Each stroke adding to a canvas that only one other had ever seen.

One might say that dragging your young nephew through the back alleys and catacombs of each and every port was not the safest in the world. But Pay and Christopher were anything but your average Aunt and Nephew.

Blunt. There was no sugar coating, no easing up because of his age. Hard and sharp the edges of the truth sliced through her as bits of who and what she was issued forth. But if those words cut deep, the tiny amount of understanding in his urchin-blending face this day stitched the wounds.

Perhaps she should have sweetened it or made it sound less cruel. But to do so removed her own jaded grasp and left the lifestyle looking more ideal. Opting for bare boned and skeletal she walked the line of trust and fear. Faith in his ability to see through to the core of her meaning kept her moving. Knowing if she stopped, she would lose her nerve. And that was unacceptable.

The sight that let them know he was still alive... still paramount to their own tiny worlds had long since left. The void in its place had left Pay aching for something more real... more honest. She'd yet to ask what the effects in her young nephew had been. Although with each grasp of her hand as they became more frequent, she could guess.

Home.. was not viable. But if you were Gypsy blood, home was relative, literally.

Twilight settled across the Compassion camp. Her traveling buddy was now tucked safely in a tent. Fed, scrubbed and dreaming it was a peace that had escaped Paytience for days. And so she stood, as she had come to so often, at the tiny grave hidden just beyond where tourists dared to tread. Arms folded across her chest as if to steel herself against reality.