"My story," I repeated, rubbing my hands together. 

"Yeah your story. What's your past?" Talbott asked, leaning back against a rock, seeming comfortable.

"Well, I was born into a relatively wealthy family. I don't have any brothers, or sisters, but I was alright. Until my mother died when I was 8. And after that my father decided he would micro-manage my every motion. And I do mean micro-manage. The micro-magement went from how I held my fork, to the amount of water I drank at once, to what I ate, and exactly what I wore.

"When something didn't go his way, I was always to blame. At 10 years old, I had been held responsible for the carrier pigeons dying, the glass ceiling cracking, supper burning, and his horse bucking him off into a river."

At my last statement, Seamus snickered. "That must've been a sight to see."

"Indeed it was," I agreed, smiling at the memory of mud covering my father head to toe. "Aftermath wasn't. The first scar he left me, was this one." I pulled back the bottom hem of my shirt to show them all the V-shaped scar that was now 11 years old.

"Anyhoo, all of this continued, getting progressively worse up until I gave up on the hope that my world could be anything like how it was for my mother; which took place about 9 years ago. So I tried my absolute hardest to be exactly what my father expected. He taught me at age 11 that crying was a sign of weakness; he told me this right after I cried due to the fact that he had my kitten drowned. After that, I never let him know about my pets."

"Did you have any after that?" McCoy asked, picking apart a piece of tree bark.

"Yes, I had ducks. But they would always lay eggs in the middle of winter, or we'd find them in the middle of winter, and we would have to keep them in my closet as so they wouldn't freeze." I explained. "Anyhoo, I ran away the night I was introduced to the man he had for me to marry."

"Aah," Was all anyone had to say back.

"What about you McCoy? What's your story?" I asked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"Quite similar to yours as a matter of fact. My parents aren't amazing. They didn't physically harm me often because they wanted to keep in good light with all of the other noble families. But when my little sister was born, I stopped receiving love. Which wasn't ideal but I was okay with it for the sake of my sister."

"What's her name? If you don't mind me asking. Your sister." I asked after waiting for the break in his sentence to talk.

"No it's alright, her I love. Her name is Amy." I nodded, and McCoy continued his story. "Of course we had Amy to take care of, and my mother refused to let the nannies take care of her. Amy was always this... perfect child, and in my parents eyes, I was nothing in comparison. Second rate, less admirable, less desirable.

"My parents became incredibly... suffocating. What was the word you used Mya?"

"Micro-managing?"

"Yes. That. They became obsessed with controlling my every move. Every time I breathe, every time I speak, even when I blink my eyes; my mother has something to say about it. She keeps breathing down my neck as if I have a chronic illness of some kind.

"And I got sick of it. I hated it. Every single bit of it. Not to mention the fact that Amy was being raised completely differently than I. They never cared what she did. It was worthy of recognition and special. I was trying so immensely hard to match up to how they saw Amy. It was physically, mentally, and emotionally draining. To the point where I drove myself ill. Which of course only made them less pleased with me.

"So I left. And I don't regret it." While McCoy talked, his hand rested on the log next to him. "Anyways, what about you Fred? How'd you get here?"

"I grew up in Lesm." I placed my hand on top of McCoy's, and squeezed it. "With my 6 older siblings." McCoy flipped his hand over, and squeezed mine back, so that the two of us were holding hands. "But the village I lived in was in the desert bit, but right on the edge so that you can see the trees of the forest section of the land.

But soon enough I was entangled. . .

"6 siblings? House must've been crowded then." Seamus said whistling slightly.

"There was enough room. But not more than enough." Fred agreed. "But because we lived in the desert, we had to deal with scavengers." Scavengers were desert nomads who liked to overrun villages, destroy homes, steal things, etcetera. My kingdom, Orantulle, was almost entirely hills, just apart from the woods surrounding them, and the little patch of farmland in the corner, plus the singular mountain at the end of the range that covered half of Jeeree Detren. Thus I had never had a run-in with Scavengers. 

"Oh, yeah, I've heard about those people. They seem horrid." I replied, trying to keep up the 'Miaread from Lesm' act.

"They are. My family was running, but as I said, I couldn't keep up. My youngest older sibling tried to help me, but my parents screamed at him to leave me behind. So they kept running. And I couldn't. So I turned and ran the opposite direction of my family who'd abandoned me.

"Being 13 years old, with brittle bones, I hid in a sand dune after about 3 minutes of trying to run. And I watched as my village cooked, and ended in a pile of ashes." I tried to keep droplets of water from spilling out of my eyes as Fred continued his story. "I heard the screams, and all I could see, was the red of the flames, dancing around, eating the wood that I once called home."

McCoy squeezed my hand tighter, and I came back to my senses, rubbing the knuckle of my finger underneath the base of my eye to clear it of tears.

"And with nothing to turn back to I started wandering around, and ended up running into Talbott, who told me about the group he was going to find. So both of us joined." I smiled at Fred, who I was now realizing, was keeping a greater distance between him and the fire than the rest of us were.  "You want to go next Talbott?"

"Yeah sure. I remember nothing before Grimsley's orphanage. Btu being there I do remember. It was not fun. The beds were hard and uncomfortable, and we had to share with another person. But it wasn't a problem for me because I was sharing with my best friend. Hugo Greyson.  He and I would get into all sorts of trouble with each other." Talbott chuckled to himself.

"The orphanage itself wasn't that great." He continued. "It was poor, the food was awful, and like I said before, it was cramped. Hugo and I hated it there. We heard tell of a 4 person group in Rantommubb. Thus we tried to escape. It was the middle of the night, and we went out of the kitchen window. But we ran into the local bobbies (Police) and; being minors; were in legal trouble. And we tried to keep going, but Hugo got caught, and taken. But he told me to keep going, so I did.

"And I walked and walked and walked. I only had a vague idea of where I was, and where Rantommubb was. Not to mention the fact that I was trying to stay... well alive. Tentatively eating berries, and raw fish. That was, until I ran into Fred. He was covered in burns, and healing was one thing that I was taught. So I helped him, and told him about the Hunters. And the two of us came here together."

"I'm proud of you. Losing friends is hard." Fred said, nodding at his best friend. Talbott smiled, and looked back into the fire.

"Was I the only one who grew up in a happy home?" Seamus asked.

"Probably," McCoy admitted. 

"So tell us everything mate," Seth insisted, chuckling dryly.

"I grew up with my 3 older sisters. My entire family have been glass makers, thus I grew up doing that." Seamus showed us his arms, littered with burn scars.

"Ouch," I whispered. "At least they've healed properly."

"Yup, we learned pretty fast how to treat burns." Right. Seamus is from Primexou. The desert kingdom. "But I got bored of it. I wanted to see a tree, and frogs. I really wanted to see frogs. So I packed a bag, and left. It took me 2 days to get out of Primexou because I made the brilliant decision of leaving right before a large sandstorm. I got 2nd degree sunburns, and sun poisoning. And that's without mentioning the fact that I of course ended up going through L'mack as well, before reaching Rantommubb. I found these people. Joined them, and now we're here."

"How old are you Seamus?" McCoy asked, making triangles on the back of my hand with this thumb.

"I'll be 17 in 4 months." He replied, eyes bright as if this information wasn't concerning.

"So you left home at. . . what?"

"14,"

"Oh gosh," I whispered under my breath. My breathing and heart rate started to quicken, and I wrenched my hand out of McCoy's. I pulled my legs up to my heart, and the tears already prickling my eyes, started to over cast.

"Miaread?"
"What happened Miaread?"
"You good lass?"
"Mya, talk to us." The four of them insisted at the same time, worry swirling in their voices along with the sadness already there.

We'd known each other for only a day or so -longer when it came to McCoy- but I had already made them worried about me. I felt so bad about it. My emotions were taking over again. I wasn't allowed. That's not ALLOWED. Stop it Isablee. Now.

Get a grip on yourself Cumberworld. You useless good for nothing space waster.

I inhaled sharply bringing myself back out of my cage of learned self hate. "Sorry," I muttered.

"Did I say something?" Seamus asked, walking over, and trying to put his arm round me. This was obviously something he had done before, whether with his siblings or a girlfriend before. But touching me was the worst thing you could do when I was over emotional.

"No, you're fine." I insisted, struggling to breathe. "I'll be back." I shot up, and practically flew into the forest, leaving the boys to wonder what had happened behind me.

McCoy's P.O.V.

"What did I say?" Seamus asked, sounding almost heart broken to have make Miaread run away like that. Her sniffling was replaying over and over in my head again.

"Nothing. I just believe emotions are running high and it got to be too much for her." I replied confidently, watching Miaread's white hair become a speck among the black sky, and dark trees.

"We should go and make sure that he's okay." Fred said, standing up, and not moving his eyes from where Miaread had disappeared. 

"We should," I agreed.

"Or maybe just one of us. We might over whelm her again, and that wouldn't be good." Talbott counter-offered. 

"I'll-" Seamus started, before Fred cut him off.

"McCoy, you go."

"I-"

"McCOY." Fred re-iterated. 

"Yeup I got it," I agreed, running off after her before Seamus could talk again. I followed close behind where I could see Miaread's footprints and could hear her talking. After I got a bit closed, and listened, I realized that she was singing.

"So keep your hea-a-ad up. So kee-keep your hea-head up. So ke-" And she dissolved into tears once again.

"What are you singing?" I asked calmly, making her shriek. That was so stupid of me. It made her breath and heart rate quicken even more, and she flew her hands into her hair, trying to get a hold of herself. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything."

"No no no no no no no no no no," She said over and over again, walking in a sporadic pattern.  "You're you're you're you're fine, you're fine you're fine." She smiled at me, and I realized her accent had completely changed.

"What song was that."

"When I was a lot younger my mum would sing me this song whenever I was sad, or panicking, or something like that. But I-I-I-I-I can't. She insisted, her breathing starting to shake.

"Hey hey hey it's alright, it's alright." I started to walk towards her, but she held out her hands to keep me away from her.

"Don't touch me right now, I don't want to hurt you."

"What do you mean?"

"Touching me when emotional is a bad idea." I nodded, understanding what she meant. She just didn't want to be touched at the moment. I could respect that. 

But I did so anyways. I hugged her, tightly, around the waist. She hugged me back instantly, and we stayed like that for a good bit of time. She soaked my shirt, but I didn't care. 

When her breathing was a bit steadier, and she seemed to be calmer -breathing easier at least, I tried to talk to her again.

"How did that song go again?"

https://youtu.be/hQeLnp-fLjc

"So keep your head up princess before your crown falls, now these voices in your head will be your down fall. I know it gets so hard but you don't got far to go. 

"Keep your head up princess it's a long road and the path leads right to where they won't go. I know it hurts right now but I know you'll make it home.

"So keep your head up. So keep your head up.

"So keep your head up princess before your crown falls, now these voices in your head will be your down fall. I know it gets so hard but you don't got far to go.

"Keep your head up princess it's a long road and the path leads right to where they won't go. I know it hurts right now but I know you'll make it home.

"So keep your head up. So keep your head up." She sang back, her voice making the trees turn to listen. She sounded hesitant to actually use her full voice. Granted, I'm sure she was still incredibly put out from her emotions. The song bounced around the trees as the leaves rustled lightly.

"That was really pretty," I whispered into her hair, "I can see why your mother used to sing it to you, and why it calms you down." I chuckled dryly.

"I have a distinct memory of my mother sitting next to me on my bed, I was all wrapped up in my big blanket, sad and scared about something. She started whispering me that song, and when she got to the repeat, I joined in with her.

"I love that song." She finished, her accent leveling out again.

"Are you alright now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Yeah any time. I want to help you Mya."

"You don't even know me."

"Yet. I want to. You're already like my best friend Mya."

I let go of her eventually, and the two of us talked as we walked back to the bonfire. The coals were still warm, but there were no more actual flames. Everyone else had gone inside the house already.

"Do you still want the fire? Or should we stomp out the coals?" I asked, realizing that Miaread was still holding her arms together and in her chest, very tightly.

"We should probably stomp it out, just head to bed." Thus the two of us stepped on the coals over and over again until they weren't glowing anymore. "You know-" She started, before cutting herself off by a coughing fit due to the smoke emulating from the squashed coals.

"Sorry, I was going to say that I was glad I had missed some of the smoke."

"I rather like teh smell actually." I countered.

"I enjoy the smell of the flames, not the smoke."

"My mum used to say that smoke follows beauty, and then would waft it towards my little sister, making her believe she was beautiful."

"Odd how people can bond over trauma eey?"

"Quite odd."

We were silent as we walked up back to the house, and went into separate rooms.

Miaread (Isablee's) P.O.V.

I had had a panic attack when Seamus mentioned he was 14 when he ran away. I had tried to when I was 14, but got caught. I didn't try again until about a week and a half ago.

Stevie was 14, and as soon as he mentioned the number, about 200 memories flashed in front of me at the same time of Stevie and I. How was she? Was she alright? Had she been held accountable for my actions? Was she currently still breathing? How was she faring now that I wasn't there to take care of her? Was Seth keeping up on his promise to take care of her?

I had to know. It had been a week. How could I possibly stay here forever if I was so worried about her. Why on Earth did I not force her to come along with me. I kicked myself for letting her talk me out of it. She had insisted -violently- that I leave her there. That I go along without her. That she would slow me down. Get us caught. Excreta. That the ducks needed her; whatever it was.

"Stevie I pray that you're alright." I whispered to the stars that night, before locking the door Damien had claimed to be mine. Being the only girl, Damien was insistent I lived in here on my own. Damien and Ace, Tyrone and Manteriin, Talbott and Fred, and McCoy on his own -were the room arrangements in the house. It filled up all of the rooms, apart from the kitchen and the shower room.

I lopped the necklace Stevie had tucked into the front pocket of my bag before I left, around my neck. She had worn it for as long as I could think. It was given to her with the promise that it would protect her.

And now according to her, it would protect me.

And I'm not taking it off anymore.

I know it's been 2 months, I'm so sorry.
-Eliza