Scene 7Mature

Kalliope busies herself wringing out the rag, trying desperately to hide her anxiety. Ueath finally gets out of bed; with a painless and emotionless expression, he walks to the basin and sits near Kalliope. She avoids eye contact, continuing to look into the water and at her reflection. Her face twists into one of near disgust as she sees herself, yet she doesn't look away.

Ueath, as he sits: Need any help?

Kalliope doesn't react for a second, then looks up at Ueath with a somewhat dazed expression.

Kalliope: Wha--no, I'm alright.

Ueath, with a slight smile: You've been working all day.

Kalliope smiles back, then slumps as she gives Ueath a look of surrender.

Kalliope: If you insist.

She stands and drops the rag into Ueath's hands. He catches it easily and continues to squeeze it into the basin, the same red liquid coming out. Kalliope walks to the end of the room, kneeling near the wall and fitting her fingers underneath. She pulls up, opening a small compartment in the wall; the compartment has nothing but dried logs and ashes inside.

Kalliope fidgets with the compartment, attempting to start a fire. As she struggles, she looks back at Ueath.

Ueath, attempting to lift the awkward silence: Nice to get back to work, isn't it?

Kalliope: Suppose it keeps your mind off things.

Kalliope finally gets the fire to start. As it grows, the desperate screams of an unknown man echo around the room. Kalliope gets a distant look in her eyes as she stares into the fire for a few seconds, slightly leaning her head to one side.

Ueath, quietly: Kalliope. Then, as she doesn't respond, his voice grows louder: Kalliope!

Suddenly, Kalliope turns to look at Ueath.

Kalliope, simply, as if nothing had just happened: Pardon me?

Ueath, a concerned look on his face: Are you sure you're alright?

Kalliope, a bit annoyed: I'm fine, I'm fine. Now, what were you saying?

Ueath, turning back to the basin: Oh--I just said it's better than being cooped up and doing nothing.

Kalliope, walking back to the basin with a grunt of approval: Hmm.

Ueath: Though I'd rather be outside in the snow.

Kalliope: Outside...?

Ueath nods, a confident look on his face.

Kalliope, chuckling quietly: You must be mistaken. Pause. No one gets outside.

The confidence slips off Ueath's face, replaced with an expression of mischief as he looks into Kalliope's deeply-confused eyes.

The End

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