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Hindolen toyed with the folds of her dress as Fungrim gently wiped her tears away. What did she care for a mother and father? Her mother had died, and she had no idea what fate had swallowed up her father. And why should she care? She'd made it this far alone, and she could continue if need be. But the fact was, she didn't want to. In Fungrim she had found another soul drifting and isolated, exiled from the happy world that everyone else seemed to so easily inhabit. It seemed to her that with him, they shared their own special world that no one else could touch, that could be and would always be their own. Yet he would not be her family.
Kinship, no, but friendship there was and he offered it to her freely. Leaning on the dwarf's shoulder, the sweet odor of pipeweed lingering in his clothes, Indy regained control of herself once more. Fungrim wasn't going to leave her or forget about her. He would always remember her, and as a friend. She would be remembered. She had hit upon a truth that many people stumble over only when much of their life has been done and gone; that life is not about money or things or frivolous pleasures and pains of the moment. It's about making something of yourself, of the world around you, so that when you're dead and gone, more than a silent, apethetic stone will record your former existence. She didn't understand it completely, but as the thought percolated through her quick-paced mind, her heart felt at ease. No matter what happened, someone would remember her, someone would call her "friend".
Nodding her head slowly, she spoke. "For life. Do you promise?" she asked, casting her eyes up once more to meet his. "Do you promise you won't forget me?"
Fungrim dipped his head slowly once. "How could I ever forget you?" he answered with a smile. "But will you forget me?" he asked with a serious expression.
Her brows ducked down for a moment. "I couldn't never forget you Fungrim! How could I?" she answered with her young grammar.
A small smile of mischief pulled at the corners of the dwarf's beard. "You're a young lass, with life full ahead of you. You'll find yourself a family and a home." He paused. "You'll have lots of other friends too. Boy friends..." he trailed off.
"Ewww! Boys are gross!" she retorted. Though she wore a dress and a ribbon in her hair, she was a tomboy through and through. She'd rather chase the boys and beat them up than make friends with them. And kissing? The very idea was despicable! "There ain't no boy who can out-run, out-swim, out-hide, out-smart, out-yell, out-spit, or out-wrestle me, so none of them are gonna be my friends!" she exclaimed in her childish voice. She knew that Fungrim was only teasing her, but it was true. None of the boys her age could even approach her without some apprehension, and she liked it that way. When she was older, that might change, but for now they were the enemy.
Her flighty mind flitted back to something that Fungrim had said. "What battle were you talking about Fungrim?" she asked. If this was the reason that he couldn't be her family, she wanted to know about it. Whether or not he was willing to tell her or not though, was another matter altogether.
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