She laughed, obviously delighted. “You and I, Siris. The world is our oyster.” *** Something adjacent to a laugh escaped his mouth, but it was rough and husky and low. “You haven’t met a ghost yet,” he replied. “You’ll know when you do.”
"Take it by storm?" he asked playfully. *** A smile reached her face, and she raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Can I at least know your name?"
"Take it by storm," she agreed, stepping away from him and going over to the window, pressing her hands against it and looking outside. * * * He looked at her for a moment, looking uncertain. "I'm not supposed to give out my name," he said, pulling on a pair of riding gloves. "It's one of our rules."
He joined her. "Anything interesting?" *** "One of your rules? I guess I'll just have to call you mouse boy."
"No," she said with a small frown. "Same view as always." She sighed, resting her forehead against the window. "But wouldn't you want to go out there?" * ** "Why do you have to call me anything?"
"I want to go out so badly," she complained. "But my parents won't let me." * * * "You won't see me again after this."
She huffed, crossing her arms. She would often get herself into these little funks, where she would perseverate over a tiny irritation for a while. “It’s not fair.” *** He raised an eyebrow before gesturing over her shoulder. “You and I come from very different worlds.”
“Not soon enough,” she muttered. “My parents wouldn’t even let me come up to the attic.” *** “So, there’s no reason why our worlds should intersect again.”
“A few years? Osiris, think about what you’re saying and who you’re saying it to. I have no patience.” *** He gave a small nod and looked as if he was preparing to leave.
"No," she shot back, turning and leaning against the window. "We're about to turn 14, Siris, and we haven't even been outside yet. How lame is that?" * * * Victor placed a bag on the back of his mouse, rubbing behind the creature's ears gently.
"Well.. When do you want to go?" *** Nascha was exploring the kitchen while the owners were out, swinging her hook in her hand.
"Now," she said yearningly, looking over at him. "I want to do something." * * * He got onto the mouse and clicked his tongue. "Let's go, Munsheiner."
