“About my past” She looked at him and said simply “you haven’t asked”
She sighed “Do you have any idea what it means to be not free? To wake up every day knowing that tomorrow will be the same painful day. To count the bruises when you wake and watch them fade to a sickly yellow and feeling them being replaced with new ones. To have no hope, they say hope is the last to die. It’s not entirely true, you have no hope when you are born a slave and supposed to die one”
She trailed off and said “I was born, I never knew my mother. My father was also a slave, he died. When I was 8 I think Ash joined the circus he was gone after some time. At 12 my duties changed. At 17 I get my mark and then my owner dies and” she paused “wham! I’m free.” She looked away “Great life mmm?”
She snorted and shrugged tilted her head one side thinking about what he had said how come you are so stiff all the time?
She chuckled “Stiff?” Of all the adjectives she had heard said about her, stiff was not one of them. “You are calling a contortionist stiff!?!?!” She opened her mouth and surprising even her she started laughing a small, strange silent laugh she covered her mouth with her hand and grinned through her fingers, it was so absurd...