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Children's Things


Doctor Amos

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The door cosed behind the young girl as she entered, letting in a touch of the low-rising fog that permiated the outside. She shivered slightly, as much for the weather as the leaving of it. The boy did not look up as he spoke.

"Hello girl."

"Hello, little one. ...you seem to have broken your doll."

"He's not a doll!" The boy protested, turning and rising to show his indignation. "He's a sojur."

"My mistake." The girl smiled, a warm smile. "He still looks pretty broken, though."

"He's not broken. He's been kilt."

"Ah." The girl nodded. "What has 'kilt' him?"

"He died in the battle. We had a battle. He lost, so I got to kill him."

"That wasn't very nice of you, you know."

"That's the rules of a battle. Haven't you ever played battle?"

"I have, yes. Although I try not to kill them quite as hard as you have. I don't think your soldier will be much good in another battle now." The boy simply shrugged. "May I play with you? Unless you're not old enough to be rid of the notion that girls are icky."

"I'm old enough." The boy pouted. "Do you want to play battle?" The boy's enthusiasm suddenly piqued.

"My playthings are too nice to have you breaking them like that." The girl tilted her head appologetically. The boy frowned.

"Girls play stupid games."

"Oh, no. I think you'll rather enjoy the games that I have to show you." The girl tapped lightly on a sealed, wooden box and raised her eyesbrows. "Come, there are such sights I have to show you." The girl outstreached her hand. The boy took it, cautiously but with a smile. They walked slowly out into mists.

They left the sojur in the room. Little of what it had once been could be seen through the quickly-congealing pools of blood and oil.

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