And the little doll girl twisted her armless torso toward the man - she had no arms because the species was simply void of them, and she was the only one to think of it - and stared at his feet, covered in a large black shoe that shone where the light graced it. Her eyes, small black spheres hooded under colorful eyebrows that carried on past her helmet-protected head to form a thin black curl equal to a human eyelash and a straight one just beneath it, wandered from the shoe upward, following the long length of a grey pant-leg and then further up. She kept herself strategically hidden behind a side table’s leg, one out of three, and was certain she would not be seen spying on the strange animal.

The human turned, the light brilliantly shifting across his shining foot, his watch, his face. She noticed this birth of new shadows and new light that was born of the man’s movement, in just the instant he simply turned on his toes, and she was in awe of the sheer expanse of shadow and light a being containing a soul - she believed all moving things had souls - could take on. And the man seemed completely undeterred at this transformation.

The external joint of her knee felt stiff in keeping so still, be she dare not budge. Oh, how stupid she was to hide in a spot so set in the sun! How stupidly she chose the closest hiding place, behind a slim table leg, no less! Stupid Lanicera, stupid Malenthi, stupid!

As she continued to degrade herself, she hardly noticed that the man had approached her. Or, rather, he had approached the vase of flowers that sat atop the small table, which were luckily no match for her, as the vine did not trickle from her forever-pursed mouth to elope with the buds. He fixed the position of the stems, his dark and shadowed shoe just inches from her, and as he moved the flowers about, a single pink petal fell from above. She moved quietly, her tiny feet making the noise of a drizzling rainfall’s whisper’s whisper, and safely avoided the petal’s descent.

But she was in a different danger as the human had neared her. Inside her torso unraveled her soul, the vine that created her. It tickled behind her cheeks, touching upon her scars of punishment, and she quickly had to turn away to the wall before the vine could slither from her mouth to investigate its choice. It grudgingly sunk back into her chest, rewinding, but left an aftertaste in her mouth.

It tasted of knowing.

It tasted of choice.

It tasted of forbidden, sickly, tangy-sweet affection.

Luckily, the man walked away from the table to return to his duties, and the girl could not even spare a look to his face, for that would surely give her away. Instead, she scuttled out of the room and returned to the outdoors where the light warmed her and, after she was certainly hidden, lured the vine out of her to draw in its food. She watched it unravel, soaking in the sunlight, keeping her alive, but it didn’t travel far, reminding her of her tiny body. Her beady eyes were quick to investigate root to end. She sighed a little in relief as the end was still simply an end - no growth, no budding. She was smart to turn away from the man quickly, as the vine surely would have budded on sight! And that would surely end with her demise, as she knew she could no longer be in such close vicinity, and the flower and its vine would have surely died.

She cursed herself for her fascination with the man, lured her soul back into her chest, and continued on to her home.

Still, she couldn’t help but steal guilty glimpses back at the yellow house.