Growing Fear and Uncertainty

It was long, too long.

Too long since she's been able to hole herself in in the security of her own room, since full meals of as much as her ravenous gut demanded were prepared for her four times a day. Too long since she'd been able to stop playing the parent for a couple of hours when she wondered off on her own in the castle and left Sophia to her servants or her family members to look after.

Too long since she'd been able to even humor the feeling of someone else looking after her. Her nagging nurse that took the side of her mother that would drape the sheets nearly over her and tuck her into bed, the maids that put so much effort into washing the stains her hands and feet at every single bath and had her clothes perfectly mended and pressed and laid out for her every time she needed them. The looking, ever eerie, familiar aura of her mother sleeping not too far away with one metaphorical eye open, listening in on them and sensing their safe presences even when she appeared to be unconscious.

Over a week.

Sonata had charred a section of wall with her breath and carved tallies into the rock with stones, but she'd lost track some days if she'd tallied more than once, if she'd missed the day outright, if the early light hours where she tumbled out of bed after collapsing with the feeling she could sleep for decades were really the day after or were just later evening of that same day.

In the woods, days were measured by hours, and hours were deciphered from their moments. It didn't take Sonata days to find contextual evidence they'd been thrown away to die, it took series of moments to go from calm to anxious to panicked and repeat the cycle all over again within the repressed confines of her head. The morning hours were different periods from the midday hours and the afternoon hours. When the twilight settled in upon a same day, it had been four separate periods in which something could have happened, four separate sections of hours in which completely independent prospects could be thought up and then developed.

Mamà should have been back by now. If she had any semblance of an idea how much food two small dragons would need to survive and how long Sonata could reasonably keep them alive in this place, they were nearing the end of the line. If their mother truly wanted them to be safe and sound when she finally came back, they were nearing the end of the line. And yet Sonata could just barely brush away the nagging, experienced reminder that her parents just might be that far detached from reality.

Sophia was tiring out. Sonata was, as well, her feet strained everyday till they were worked sore and deadly missed even ground, her body hurt sometimes when she was overcome with spouts of nearly possessing hunger. She was trying her best, she was at the point where she managed to knock a bird out of the sky by chance one day and messily pull it's feathers off and char it with her fire breath, but their meals got less and less substantial and she tried to thin them out to stretch further and further.

Sophia had complained being hungry now and then at first, which was out of place in the first place with such a generally understanding child, and then her stamina to keep up with Sonata plummeted, and she began to sleep further into the day and take longer and longer naps. Even on the days Sonata woke her up to take a bath or follow her along on short tasks she used to get excited about, she could hold Sonata's hand so tightly she was practically leaning on her, and wobble around after a few moments on her own like she was in the starting dizzy spell of a fever that just never manifested, though she wasn't completely bedridden if she left her in the cave and let her rest.

She was a spite, for one thing; her body was just that much weaker and vulnerable to begin with compared to Sonata's. And she was still so, so tiny. She was barely even six years old. There was so much less stuff making up her body to begin with than there was Sonata's. Even though she'd made her own portion sizes smaller to try and accommodate for Sophia's falling health. Even though she was at the point where she pretended to have eaten while Sophia was sleeping or said she wasn't hungry so there was less of a chance Sophia fell outright ill where there was no one around who knew how to care for a feverish sprite.

As much as she wanted to just spend the day resting, Sonata told herself that the only way she was allowed to eat was if she caught something. It didn't matter to her anymore if it was a rodent or an already dead animal or a bug she had to forage for... if only her mother had just taken a moment to listed to her. If only she'd been willing to at least listen to her argument as to why she and Sophia wouldn't be okay out here.

"...Sis?" A quiet voice sounded out from deeper within the cave, almost as though it wasn't sure it wanted to be found.

"Yeah?"

The little girl paused. "Where did Mamà go?"

The same answer to a question she'd asked before, Sonata replied "She went to find Papà?"

"Why?" Her voice sounded a bit grimmer than before.

This time it was Sonata who didn't reply immediately. "Because.." she tried to reason something, her turned back hiding her tension from the darkness. "Because he's our family," she barely had time to say beforesharp, choked-inwards cry escaped Sonata's lips.

Tears overwhelmed Sonata's eyes and manifested as tear drops as she toppled over and the pain came back again, a throbbing pressure in her skull and her stomach and muscles, straining them in a spasm almost as though they were about to cramp. The pain was getting worse, but like all of the episodes she knew it would eventually be over. She clutched the skirt of her dress as she muffled sobs, collapsing to her knees and gripping the wall for support with one arm as she waited for the pain to just subside.

"Sis?" A concerned voice rang out.

Sonata tried to clasp her hand over her mouth, but it was futile as her hand kept losing strength as her consciousness throbbed in and out of reality with the pain. She could make out darkening nothingness and then the vague sound of what was maybe pattering in the distance, and then frame after slow, jittering frame showed a small figure sit down besides her, nervously tugging at her sleeve as she wanted for confirmation that things were alright. Sonata was unable to shield her terrified expression, her trembling, disheveled form as Sophia's expression dropped further and tears began to form on her eyes. Small arms wrapped Sonata in a hug and began to cry. Fear and despair she'd tried to barricade against and be strong came flooding over the wall in reaction to one, small, alarming event.

Sonata tried to reassure her, she really did, but all the fear and uncertainty and exhaustion she saw reflected in Sophia's eyes came tumbling out at once. She let out a pitiful wail of distress as she felt tears drop liberally down her cheeks, uncontrollable sobs rocking her body and stealing away her voice so all she could do was hold Sophia tightly, hugging her back.

There were definitely excuses Sonata wanted to make for herself, plans she would rather have formulated to make everything okay again, or at least seem that way. Sophia still had questions she wasn't sure she was allowed to ask. There were words aplenty describing their emotions if they'd wanted to confront one another and express green, if they had the tact and emotional control to do that.

But in that moment, they just cried.