"Go where?" she asks, reasonably. "This is my home."
While anywhere else is a legitimate answer to that question — still, where should she go? A ten-year-old girl, alone. There's nowhere to run to where she'll be safe, no authorities to take care of her. When the missionaries came, she already knew how it would go; the witch hunter they brought was no such thing, she knew because she knew his kind. She had had these dreams, too. When she stopped him from hurting the babies, the missionaries only saw a witch killing the witch hunter, and she fled even knowing it would only postpone the inevitable. There is an awareness of this in the dream as it happens while it isn't happening.
"It's okay," she says after a moment. "It's not the end. This —"
What she goes on to say is lost in the sudden piercing wail of a siren, so loud it sounds like it's coming from somewhere in the vicinity, although it can't be because there are none in sight. And rather than blare for a few minutes and then go silent, it keeps going, drowning out every other sound.
The girl keeps talking until it becomes apparent that the siren isn't going to stop, or maybe she only notices it then. Then her face changes, for the first time appearing worried as she looks around and then up at the sky, unsure. This isn't how it's supposed to go in any context.
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While anywhere else is a legitimate answer to that question — still, where should she go? A ten-year-old girl, alone. There's nowhere to run to where she'll be safe, no authorities to take care of her. When the missionaries came, she already knew how it would go; the witch hunter they brought was no such thing, she knew because she knew his kind. She had had these dreams, too. When she stopped him from hurting the babies, the missionaries only saw a witch killing the witch hunter, and she fled even knowing it would only postpone the inevitable. There is an awareness of this in the dream as it happens while it isn't happening.
"It's okay," she says after a moment. "It's not the end. This —"
What she goes on to say is lost in the sudden piercing wail of a siren, so loud it sounds like it's coming from somewhere in the vicinity, although it can't be because there are none in sight. And rather than blare for a few minutes and then go silent, it keeps going, drowning out every other sound.
The girl keeps talking until it becomes apparent that the siren isn't going to stop, or maybe she only notices it then. Then her face changes, for the first time appearing worried as she looks around and then up at the sky, unsure. This isn't how it's supposed to go in any context.