Pensive Recovery

She watched calmly, drawing her palm over his long hair marred by dried blood and dirt. As he cradled his head into her hand, her thumb rest on dry lips while she studied his voice her curiosity only grew. She was willing to listen and learn all she could before she would reply.

As he spoke of the young man he had fed on, she recollected the tense moment of his encounter with the veteran priest. Before she could reassure him, he has shifted his temperament on a dime.

She couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle when he tenses up and recoils away. His mannerism was endearing, an innocence she had not seen in a long time



she said in jest, her elegant smile was still laced on her mature face. With her eyes transfixed with his, she draws herself closer again.

“Evelynn… my name is Evelynn Levuth, my dear”

Evelynn’'s words lingered, she left her statement vague. She wasn’'t quite sure how to explain her creations as they were still very much a growing experiment. The doll she called Allete slowly crept back to where it was sleeping moments before. The flame on the candle dithers away and it slumps forward becoming motionless. She studies Francis’ wary face and offers the wet clean cloth with a warm smile.



‘Now… Francis… where will you go from here I wonder? Certainly not running into more priests I hope, you have already been through quite a trial…’


‘…Clean up and I will get you a change of clothes, let us start there…’ 


Her eyes swept over Francis’ torn and bloodied cassock. He was still a stranger to her but she couldn'’t help but be curious by his choice of attire. Surely it would bring more danger than comfort. Her delicate fingers comb through his stained fringe once more and then she places the cloth into his palm. She gestures calmly to the bowl full of warm water.