The Map Maker
The boy started down the hallways, his steps quick.
She hurried after him, trying to match his pace, and failing.
It wasn't that he was moving too fast. No, if anything he was slowing his steps to allow her to keep up.
She was just slow.
As usual, as ever, her body was a frail and pathetic one, incapable of doing something as simple as moving with speed or purpose.
Her cheeks heated with shame at that, but the boy didn't seem to notice it, or didn't say anything if he did.
They moved through the twisting, winding corridors in silence for several long minutes, before she couldn't bear the awkward quiet between them any longer.
"Ciaran," She asked softly, "...What are you doing here, anyway?"
His steps stuttered slightly. He glanced back at her, and she caught a look of uncertainty in his expression before he turned away again. His voice was quiet when he responded, "Oh. Just...helping my sister."