where is your home

Vaelyn carries the bear with her love for the child sinking into its fur. She follows Kit once again as she leaves her bedroom. She decides to take a seat in the living room as she stares at her new gift in silence, and Kit continues her stride into the kitchen to scavenge for a meal.

"Are you hungry? I haven't seen you eat this whole time," Kit calls to Vaelyn from across the kitchen. Vaelyn tilts her head back, glancing to the sunbeams that bring out the blemishes on a wooden dining table.

"No, I'm alright. Thanks for offering, though," Vaelyn calls back, smiling lightly to the comfort of what starts to make her home: the internal light of the home that roams freely without a single moment where it fades. Kit ruffles through a cabinet, searching deep for something to snack on, and determined she's going to find something for Vaelyn anyway.

Vaelyn cheerfully looks around the room the best she can, taking in features of the interior decorations that she couldn't see before with the swift glances of her poor vision. She squints at the frames that hold flowers within them, the artificial fabrics of green vines wrapping around the cabinets and the frozen crosses of religion. She looks over a glass coffee table in the center of the room and a bed made for a pet sitting in the corner of the room.

"Oh, you don't think that dog we found in the city was yours, was it?" Vaelyn calls out, hoping Kit isn't lost searching in the cupboards to hear the question. Kit rises from the cupboard and leans from the side of the kitchen entrance. She furrows her brows.

"What?" Kit asks, unsure of how to answer the question. Vaelyn thought it would be obvious.

"The dog we found next to that diner. Was it yours?" Vaelyn asks, turning to the direction of Kit's voice. She makes out the silhouette of the child from the light of the window that beams brightly behind her. Kit paces closer to Vaelyn, trying to search for the reason she asked the question, and puts her hands on the side of the couch.

Kit shakes her head gently. "We don't have a dog."

Vaelyn's curiosity boils into shock. She turns her head slowly back to the bed, making sure that her lack of vision didn't just trick her into a hallucination. She blinked with a wish that it was only her damaged sight that kept her from the truth, but it remained in the corner, haunting Vaelyn as she imagined the child as the animal. She slowly, cautiously rises from the couch as her fingers roll into her palms, her fists eager to be thrown at whoever keeps this flower fed. She walks toward the bed, gives another moment to take in its presence, and then snaps her head to Kit.

"You mean…" Vaelyn's voice chokes out, her rage melting her words. Kit reaches out, attempting to calm her down, and her face is smothered in fear. As she reaches to hold Vaelyn's fists, a loud collection of thumps pound from the front door. Kit and Vaelyn stare at the door as the thumps sound again. The faint voice of an older man crawls through the locked crack of the door, calling to see if his child is lurking inside. Vaelyn leans down and holds Kit's arms. "I can't let you stay here. Let me take you to safety."

Kit glances at the door again as the lock slides open. Vaelyn calls her name to catch her attention again. Kit takes a moment to decide, unsure of the consequences of leaving her home behind again, and doesn't have enough time to consider them. The second lock slides open with an echoing click, and Vaelyn shakes on Kit's arms without another second to spare.

"Kit, I need you to answer me! Please," Vaelyn begs, holding the child as tears start to crawl from her eyes again. Kit gives her a gentle nod and briskly turns to the couch.

Kit reaches for the bear lying on a cushion and runs to her room. Vaelyn stands, preparing to follow her, but the door begins to slide open as she searches blindly in the room for Kit's blurred figure. She dashes for the hallway herself, her body bumping into a wall as she chases the petal, and as the door opens completely, her body slides swiftly into Kit's room again.

The man steps into the living room and slams the door behind him. He watches over the hallway as shadows glide over the walls. He looks around the living room, checking for any new movements in the items that lie over the tables, and paces towards his daughter's room.

"Katherine, are you there?" The man calls with his rugged, worn voice. He listens closely as noises echo from her room, and he grips the entrance of her room where the door sits wide open. He peers into the doorway, glancing around the room, and gazes at his findings. He walks deeper into the pink-coated bedroom with caution. "Katherine?"

The father searches her room swiftly, peering into her closet without a glimpse of her presence, and sighs as he turns to continue his search. He peers over her desk, finding a shoe without its laces resting in front of him, and glares in confusion. He walks up to it, grasps it in his wrinkled hand, and puts it back down with a dozen questions fogging over his thoughts. He puts his hands on his hips, growling to himself in failure, and then feels a warm breeze glide over his business suit. His eyes catch the window of the room as it rests wide open, the screen under the glass sliced and broken, and as the daylight crawls through the open passage, the father of the flower finds his rage swirling in the same sun. Its flares imitate his wishes to burn every blade of grass until his daughter has returned to him again.