Something's happening. You hear the call, of course. Those ears work fine. But you don't answer immediately; it means nothing except noise to the space between your ears. So what if some adult wants attention? Not everyone gets what they want, do they? Not everyone —

Shit, Virga, you're not going to start crying, are you?

I mean, of course you're not! Bold is like your middle name. You don't care if you haven't seen your sister in a while, or your mom, because you've been exploring and making all kinds of friends! The more you pretend to be independent, though, the more painfully obvious it becomes you're not. The heart quivering in your chest remembers how young it is, how fragile, and you want dearly to curl up beside Mama and just sleep. Looking for her isn't working today. Maybe she's busy. Maybe she's talking to the adults again. That seemed like a fun game, before. Now it opens up a hollow in your guts, and with your head hanging, you march off toward the sound of the call anyway.

And you're late.

You don't know it, of course, and if you did know, you wouldn't care. The shy animal living between your ribs pounds its hooves on your sternum, yells not here, and for a long time — too long — you stand at the fringes of the meeting and stare. They're all bigger than you. They all know what they're doing, and you don't, and a part of you just wants to sit down and scream, but you dare not draw attention to yourself. You're not so desperate yet. Adventuring has matured you in odd ways, and so silently you drift to the edges of the crowd, your dark eyes picking out parts and pieces of adults, studiously clinging to those you recognize.

And you do know a few. That big, scary one.... One of the smaller, nicer-voiced ones... That striped woman! You edge away from her. And because she seems in charge, because you have a vague memory of seeing her very, very long ago, you inch up toward the warm-colored lady. Not too close — not anywhere near close enough to get everyone looking at you. But you stare at her. She looks nice. She isn't Mama, but she looks nice. Maybe you can ask her where Mama is, later. Maybe Mama's on her way, after all...

Because your body feels heavy now, you do plop your rump onto the ground. And you wait. There's not much else to do, anyway.